Classic Poem

That Love when journeying to Delight should tire!
That Beauty, too, (both of celestial birth,)
Should faint and pine for wants that are of earth,
And which the body only doth require!
That souls which soar to heaven, and would wing higher,
Should be thus imped, in their divinest mirth,
By things to minds immortal nothing-worth,
And which clean spirits loathe as an alloying mire! —
These muttered thoughts, that baffled Bliss did frame,
My bosomed love half heard — and took for chiding
That which frail Nature, and not her, did blame;
And now as light she sped as a sylph riding
The many-winded air, until we came
To that green nook, the bower of our abiding!