Classic Poem

Though cold clear cruelties like diamond
Burthen this silken text of dim surmise,
Surely thou knowest I am pity's bond
If one but look at me with stricken eyes.
If like a herald I have blazoned Pride,
I am Humility's own renegade.
For fruits of good and evil have I sighed?
If Love forbid them, Love shall be obeyed.
Though the wroth soul may excommunicate
Her body, yet I see the flagrant strife
Of earthy and heavenly elements create
Colour, change, music. For the Tree of Life
Burns with this precious mystery of sorrows
That Love the Phoenix find immortal morrows.