Classic Poem

Oh ye are dull, ye skies,
A gloom hath o'er you roll'd,
A sorrow on me lies
Too mighty to be told;
The glory of Nature dies,
And all her heart is cold.

He whom I love is false;
The sweetest vow he swore,
His changeful mind recalls
Never, oh nevermore;
Day darkens, and life palls,
And sickens at its core.

His love's last flickering gleam
In his cold heart has died;
" But yet, if I could deem
My passion satisfied,
With friendship and esteem,
He'd give me both," he cried.

Friendship! 'twixt him and me!
It cannot flourish long.
I pass its death's decree;
In all life's pulses strong,
Protest in agony
Against the bitter wrong.

I feel its end draw near,
I know the coming fate,
I will not shed a tear
Though crushed and desolate;
But for his friendship swear,
My fierce, undying Hate.

Yes! Hate as strong and true
As was the love I bore,
Hate, in my thought still new,
Shall flourish evermore;
Shall haunt him and pursue,
And shadow him o'er and o'er.

Hate! bitter Hate! alas!
What is such Hate to me?
Were He but kind, I'd pass
From Hate to Ecstasy,
And love him — oh, my soul!
To Love's Eternity.

More than my tongue could tell,
More than my pen could write
Or fancy syllable —
Love true — Love infinite!
Kind Heaven! my soul is dark!
Oh lead me to the light.