Classic Poem

Is he alone? The myriad stars shine o'er him,
The flowers bloom for him mid wintry frost;
He needs not sleep to dream, — and dreams restore him
Whatever he has lost.

Is he forsaken? Beauty's self is nigh him,
Closer than bride to the fond lover's arms, —
Veiled, guarding still, to lift and glorify him,
The mystery of her charms.

Unto his soul she speaks in accents moving —
In moving accents meant for him alone,
Revealing, past all visioned heights of loving,
Far-beckoning heights unknown.