Classic Poem

One silent night of late,
When every creature rested,
Came one unto my gate,
And knocking, me molested.

Who's that, said I, beats there,
And troubles thus the sleepy?
Cast off, said he, all fear,
And let not locks thus keep ye.

For I a boy am, who
By moonless nights have swervèd;
And all with showers wet through,
And e'en with cold haft starvèd.

I pitiful arose,
And soon a taper lighted,
And did myself disclose
Unto the lad benighted.

I saw he had a bow,
And wings too, which did shiver;
And looking down below,
I spied he had a quiver.

I to my chimney's shine
Brought him, as love professes,
And chafed his hands with mine,
And dried his dropping tresses.

But when he felt him warmed,
Let's try this bow of ours
And string, if they be harmed,
Said he, with these late showers.

Forthwith his bow he bent,
And wedded string and arrow,
And struck me that it went
Quite through my heart and marrow.

Then laughing loud, he flew
Away, and thus said, flying,
Adieu, mine host, adieu,
I'll leave thy heart a-dying.