Classic Poem

I've often laughed and oftener still have wept,
A sighing always through my laughter crept,
Tears were not far away …
What is there to say?

I've spoken much and oftener held by tongue,
For still the most was neither said nor sung.
Could I but tell it so …
What is there to know?

I've hated much and loved, oh so much more!
Fierce contrasts at my very heartstrings tore …
I tried to fight them—well …
What is there to tell?