Classic Poem

I SAT with her, and spoke right goldenly
Of love and beauty, and because her hair
Brushed me, I plucked down Sirius like a pear,
To braid it, and had laughter for my fee;
Yea, suing her to heavier slavery,
Had all but plucked the fruitage of her lips,
When lo! inked clouds and absolute eclipse,
Courteous but unmistakeable ennui.

Then did I mind me of the sorrow wailed
Thro' poets' books, and how the streaming torch
Of suns greater than Sirius had failed,
And as I shambled out the menials' door
I heard new feet sound in the statued porch
And salutations I had heard before.