Classic Poem

And here I sit alone in my plaid
With my dearest wish in my heart.
While the fire burns low and the night grows chill
The hopes I have cherished depart.

About me my plaid where his arms should be —
My plaid of his tartan sett;
The plaid he gave to keep me in mind
Of a thing I could never forget.

Of the dream that haunts the ways of my heart,
Where once there was fire and light!
But the kiss would bring fulfilment to me
Seems far as a star in the night.