Classic Poem

I.

Would that I were on some bleak shore,
Where billows foam, and tempests roar,
But to be quit of thee;—
Or in some barren wilderness.
Where yellow serpents loudly hiss,
More happy would I be.

II.

Then would I never more return,
To where my soul can only mourn
In never ending strife;
But I would live in freedom there,
Free from those eyes' infernal glare,
And this unhappy life.

III.

For what! can man endure this strife?—
The fiendish temper of a wife,
And yet not taste despair:—
No, no! he never can endure
A life of misery, lasting sure,
While there is purer air.

IV.

Farewell! this tempest's at an end,—
Farewell! once loved, now hated friend,
Farewell! and that forever.
Thy scolding tongue I'll hear no more,
Except the winds shall waft it o'er
You distant, happy river.