Classic Poem

I

What of the loves that glow
In the warm breast?
What of the hopes that grow
Into unrest? —
Hopes we may never know,
Still unconfessed.

What of the tears that well
In the hid eyes?
What of the griefs that swell
As they arise? —
Griefs that we dare to tell
Only by sighs.

II

What of the looks that speak?
What of the changing cheek?
" Silent, my dear, and shy? "
Needless are words and weak;
Into the depths I seek
Of thy clear eye.

III

What of the hiding veils?
What of the doubt that quails?
What of the yearning throe:
" Love, shall I never know? "
What of the faith that fails?
What of the no-avails?

What of the hearts that break
For a strong sorrow's sake?
O my own parted friend!
Over the distance send,
By thy soul-sympathy,
One little message dear,
Vapor of one small tear
Given to me.