Classic Poem

I once stood knocking at your door of dreams,
And no one opened. I was loath to go,
Fain to believe you would not have it so.
Obscure I was and lonely as the streams
On mountain fastnesses. Only the beams
Of stars haunted me then; and through the snow
Of winters, with the sleet and drifting floe,
My heart burned constant in celestial gleams.

And then once more I came, and you stood bright
Upon the entrance, holding wide the door.
I was not overproud; and yet I might
Never again set foot where once before
Admittance was denied me in my plight.
One may forget — but what's remembrance for?