Classic Poem

WHEREIN HE RECALLS THE SAD SWEET SOUVENIRS OF LOVE

That window where my whole sun sets and rises
Forever dazzling, lending earth new lustres,
And that where still, when savage Boreas blusters
In the brief days, the gusts assume fierce guises;
That seat of stone where she soliloquizes
In solitude beneath the cypress clusters;
Haunts where her shadow gleamed; soft grass that musters
Proud memories of her radiant enterprises;
That spot where Love first wrought my overthrowing;
The sweet new season that, without relenting,
Revives the punctual wound, the blood's bright flowing;
That face like flowers, those pure words circumventing
All passion — words, face in my heart's heart growing
To blind mine eyes with anguish and repenting.