Classic Poem

When the bitter source of sorrow
When the last farewell is sighed,
With no hope to cheer tomorrow
Joys kind promises denied.

Yet we dwell with ling'ring pleasure
On that distant doubtful day,
Which may yield us back our treasure
All our sorrows to repay.

Can the tender heart declare
Meeting what it fondly loves
Why the bliss cannot compare
With the pang which parting proves

Happy hour so long expected!
Joy impatiently desired
Disappointed half dejected
What have I from thee acquired?

Take again the transient pleasure
Willingly I yield it up,
But restore my dearest treasure
Give me back delicious Hope