 | [Poems by Hoffman in] Charles Fenno Hoffman |  |
296
FROM “DIARY OF A YOUNG MAN ABOUT TOWN”
Farewell! that parting word at least
I still may speak unchecked by thee,
Though even cold regard has ceased,
Love's latest task is left to me—
And long my lips would lingering dwell
Upon that word—Farewell! Farewell!
I still may speak unchecked by thee,
Though even cold regard has ceased,
Love's latest task is left to me—
And long my lips would lingering dwell
Upon that word—Farewell! Farewell!
Farewell? that word I may not speak—
The thought it breathes is not for me.
Farewell? it now were worse than weak
To whisper it alone to thee,—
But could I as I'd speak be heard,
I'd pour my soul in that one word.
Farewell!
The thought it breathes is not for me.
Farewell? it now were worse than weak
To whisper it alone to thee,—
But could I as I'd speak be heard,
I'd pour my soul in that one word.
Farewell!
| [Poems by Hoffman in] Charles Fenno Hoffman | |