Classic Poem

When first I looked upon your face
It seemed to me it was not new;
It seemed from some far-distant place
I but remembered you:
For some sweet subtle feeling told
That we two once had loved of old.

The clear-cut curve of lip and chin,
The low fond voice, the gentle way;
By these I knew that we had been
Fond lovers in our day:
It seemed I heard you singing still
To me by some Thessalian rill!

Perhaps I was a shepherd lad
And you a shepherd maid;
And O! what kisses sweet we had
The while our two flocks strayed —
Strayed off with distant bleat and bell
Along some lost Achaean dell.

Perhaps I was a bard and wrought
Some golden martial story,
How Helen loved, how Hector fought,
My harp a-thrill with glory:
Again you bring those mystic years,
I hear your praise. I feel your tears.

The golden God sat in my shell
And Venus breathed in you;
Did I not sing both wild and well?
Did I not warmly woo?
Perhaps we swooned to some sweet wrong
That thrilled us like a battle song!

O let us take the ancient way,
The way we knew of old
Ere Time flew o'er and made us gray,
Ere Death had made us cold:
Again the old sweet way begin! —
How can it lead us into sin?