teenage love poem

this is the song of youth
tell me not
the stars fell from heaven
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
if the red slayer think he slays
the saddest of the year
in halls of sleep you wandered by
wheel me down by the meadow
a bird sang
there is an hour of peaceful rest
short and sweet, and we've come to the end of it
she must go back, she said
in the dark and peace of my final bed