Classic Poem

It was a summer's eve, on which I first
Beheld thee. As I looked into thine eyes,
And saw them flashing with the consciousness
Of their attractive power, the Love God
Spread his wings o'er me. From that hour I nursed
A pleasing form that to my bosom flew,
Seeking admittance. Not till then I knew
That Love and Hope were friends. Could I despise
The teachings of the rosy twain? Not less
Welcome was Love's companion than himself.
How kind was Hope! But Love — deceitful elf!
Called Sorrow in, who with his heavy rod
Chastised me. There the three remain:
Hope soothes when Love or Sorrow brings me pain.