Classic Poem

I am the wild vine! I rise at the wall of your court and am climbing, red and wild, up to the sill of your window .
To lie at the floor of your room, to listen to the swish of your dress, to pale in the light of your eyes, grow sad from your words!
To hang in ambush from your lamps, autumny and green as a spider, to fade musingly as your lamp, to die out in ashes in the flame of your stove!
To lie pale and dead in the snow on your windows, snowy white in the snow and snowed under, and weeping to you from the snow .