Classic Poem

On Petrarch's heart, all other days before,
In flaming letters written, was impress'd
Good F RIDAY . And on mine, be it confess'd,
Is this year's A DVENT , as it passeth o'er.

I dOnot now begin, — I still adore
Her whom I early cherish'd in my breast,
Then once again with prudence dispossess'd,
And to whose heart I'm driven back once more.

The love of Petrarch, that all-glorious love,
Was unrequited, and, alas, full sad;
One long Good Friday 'twas, one heartache drear;

But may my mistress' Advent ever prove,
With its palm-jubilee, so sweet and glad,
One endless Mayday, through the livelong year!