Classic Poem

How could I tell skies would be gray
When you, dear heart, had gone away?
How could I know the summer sun
Was glad of you to look upon,
And it was you who warmed the day?

What part you had to make the May,
And how the very June was gay
With something from your presence won,
How could I tell?

When you were here, a fervid ray
Of sudden summer lit my way;
Now you with love and life are done,
The very light seems me to shun,
And through the dark I darkly stray—
How could I tell?