Classic Poem

FROM THE FRENCH OF EDMOND ROSTAND

Men wander up and down,
A-singing through the town
Some chestnut, blond, or brown
Sweetheart:
Chestnut or brown may reign,
Or blond, won without pain, —
But my Love doth remain
Apart.

He merits little things
Who faithful sighs and sings
When every evening brings
His star:
Her white hand he may press,
Her garment's hem caress: —
But I love my Princess
Afar.

'Tis sweet with love to burn,
Always to love and yearn,
To ask not in return
Her heart:
Love that may not attain,
Most noble when most vain!
And my Love shall remain
Apart.

A heavenly thing it seems
This love of shades and gleams;
What were life without dreams
That are
The one gift that may bless?
I dream of her caress: —
Let me love my Princess
Afar!