Classic Poem

Didst thou, sweet, wait for me when thou wast young?
Yea, have we yearned across the bitter seas,
Heart wailing out to heart, — and hath the breeze
Of summer round two souls expectant sung?
Have the pale past years with one weary tongue
Cried out for soul-companionship? the trees
Waved with forlorn grey frondage o'er waste leas,
And through the stars one hopeless music rung?

And, now we find each other, we are barred, —
Barred from each other, though the sad souls cry
" At length, at length, a recompence is nigh,
At length we rest victorious; " weird and hard
Seems to our souls the iron hand of Fate,
Denying love's bliss at love's very gate.