Classic Poem

Faithless is she, but faithful I,
The silver lamp that Flaccus gave,
Who on her nightly lovers spy,
The men that Napë have.
Beside her couch I droop my flame,
Unwilling witness to a wanton's shame.

And thou, dear Lord, dost sleepless lie
While anxious thoughts thy spirit fret,
Tormented in thine agony
By cruel cares beset.
Though we are severed far, dear friend,
We both are burning to a bitter end.