Classic Poem

If I should pass my life
Dead to the beauty of the world,
Not knowing the glint of sunlight,
Wind rustling among deep grasses,
Heavy fall of blossom from spring trees,
Fragrance of southern orange-groves,
Splendour of bronze and lofty spread
Of wide arras in dead kings' dwellings,
Dead to the sound of music
That tears the heart with infinite longing,
Dead to Homer, dead to Dante, dead to Villon,
Dead to all things lovely save her loveliness,
To all beauty but her body's glory,
To all music but her voice speaking,
To all knowledge save of her—
Oh, then, I should have all things amply,
She containing in herself all virtue
Of every fair thing worthy of loving.