Classic Poem

Somewhere I chanced to read how love may die
From too large giving; so I mused thereon:
" Haply in this our utmost fear should lie? "
And mindful of this caution, I read on;
Then saw these words: " Yet love may equally
Abate through long neglect. " But thereupon
I smiled, believing hereof we were free
And would be ever till our days were done.
Now love is dead, but how I cannot tell —
Whether from too large giving, or neglect.
First dimmed the flame, and after that there fell
The fated silence. Yet I should elect
Neither of these as cause, but say love died
Out of a cold and calculating pride.