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HE LOVES ME NOT WITH THAT FOND LOVE.

I

I hear him say he loves me well,
And I would fain believe;
He vows he'll ne'er abandon me,
And why should he deceive?
Yet still I think—and at the thought
My eyes with tears are dim,
He loves me not with that fond love
Which I have felt for him.

II

He leaves me for the mountain chase,
And for the courtly scene;
To me it were the greatest bliss
To be where he has been.
He leaves me that his laughing lip
May touch the goblet's brim;
He loves me not with that fond love
Which I have felt for him.

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III

Oh! woman dwells in loneliness
While restless man may rove;
Perhaps he was not made to feel
Her all engrossing love.
And thus I watch his late return,
My fading lamp I trim;
He loves me not with that fond love
Which I have felt for him.