Classic Poem

Platonic friendship, at your years,
Says Conscience, should content ye;
Nay, name not fondness to her ears —
The darling 's scarcely twenty.

Yes; and she'll loathe me, unforgiven,
To dote thus out of season;
But beauty is a beam from heaven
That dazzles blind our reason.

I'll challenge Plato from the skies,
Yes, from his spheres harmonic,
To look in Mary Campbell's eyes
And try to be Platonic.