Classic Poem

Know then the anguish of my sad condition,
And break the silence of unending days;
Appease me with one sentence of contrition,
For that command which doomed me to these ways.
I am your wife. Despite my sacred calling,
Despite my vows, my consecrated life,
Despite the fate so tragic and appalling,
That wrecked two hearts, yet still I am your wife!
May you not, then, in pity for my sorrow,
Permit me once to look upon your face?
Or, that denied, may I not comfort borrow
By your discourses on the means of grace?
You cast your pearls before unheeding swine:
Would you save souls? Then, Abelard, save mine.