Classic Poem

Sad sonnets written while a wild hope lasted,
I kiss your eyes, and give you subtle wings,
That towards the distance of blue previous things
Your plumes may hasten: while I fought and fasted
And triumphed, these were written,—now, dismasted,
Around my soul the white foam-fever clings,
And in my ears the chant sonorous rings
Of waves that break the ship's hull bent and blasted.

But these were written while a hope remained,—
Wild, unfledged, a young eaglet in a dream,—
And while as yet a madman's eyes were strained
Through mists wherein strange answering glances gleam;
Written before the soft red sweet lips spoke,
By the strong heart that loved them,—till it broke.