Classic Poem

The young moon hides her virgin heart
Within a ring of gold;
So doth this little cycle all
My bosom's love enfold,
And tell the tale that from my lips
Seems ever half untold;
Like the rich legend of the East,
That weaves and interweaves
Its linked sweetness, or the rose
That hath a hundred leaves.

This little fairy talisman
Shall love's serene Elysium span;
No hope shall pass its mystic round,
And all within be holy ground:
And here, as in the elfin ring
Where fairies dance by night,
The green oases of the heart
Shall keep their verdure bright,
And hope, within this magic round,
Still blossom in delight.