Classic Poem

I loved her; and beneath the moon,
We met among the flowers of June;
I gave her my all, my love's rich boon,
I loved her, but we parted soon,
She would have it so.

I loved her; through my span of life,
She might have been my cherished wife;
And I had striven, with ceaseless strife,
To make her days with pleasures rife;
She would not have it so.

I loved her; for she bent on me
A smile and look of sorcery;
Until my heart could not be free;
Alas! that such deceit should be;--
But she would have it so.

I loved her; and my heart was broke,
Beneath the heavy, crushing stroke;
As 'neath the lightning dies the oak
When she in scorn and anger spoke;
She would have it so!