Classic Poem

I LOVE thee, I love thee,
Far better than wine,
But the curse is above me;
Thou 'lt never be mine!

As the blade wears the scabbard,
The billow the shore,
So sorrow doch fret me
For evermore.

Fair beauty, I leave thee,
To conquer my heart:
I 'll see thee, I 'll bless thee,
And then—depart.

Let me take, ere I vanish,
One look of thine eyes,—
One smile for remembrance,
For life soon flies!

—And now for the fortune,
That hangeth above;
And to bury in battle,
My dream of love!