Classic Poem

Why do I hate that lone green dell?
Buried in moors and mountains wild,
That is a spot I had loved too well
Had I but seen it when a child.

There are bones whitening there in the summer's heat,
But it is not for that, and none can tell;
None but one can the secret repeat
Why I hate that lone green dell.

Noble foe, I pardon thee
All thy cold and scornful pride,
For thou wast a priceless friend to me
When my sad heart had none beside.

And, leaning on thy generous arm,
A breath of old times over me came;
The earth shone round with a long-lost charm;
Alas, I forgot I was not the same.

Before a day—an hour—passed by,
My spirit knew itself once more;
I saw the gilded vapours fly
And leave me as I was before.