Classic Poem

The stranger gazed
And, as he gazed, some feeling undefined
Stole o'er his pallid features, and his eye
Gleam'd with a joyful wildness, which display'd
Not cheerfulness, but rapture. ‘This is bliss,’
He murmur'd audibly; but as he spake,
The sound of his own voice appear'd to burst
The transient charm, and waken in his mind
Some bitterest slumbering feeling. ‘This is bliss,’
He said again, but in the tone of one,
Who, having waken'd from a lovely dream,
Tries to recall the vision, but in vain!
He shook his head, while o'er his wither'd cheek
A deadlier paleness whiten'd, and that moon,
Though bright in undiminish'd loveliness,
Charm'd him no longer, buThe turn'd away,
And groan'd in bitterness.