 | Lectures on art, and poems |  |
361
THE PARTING.
WRITTEN FOR MUSIC, AND INSCRIBED TO MISS R--- C--- D---.
Not “Farewell!” O, speak it never!
Time and Distance in it find
Limit never,—flying ever,—
Leaving darkened Hope behind.
Soon yon quiet vessel's motion,
Soon shall yonder rolling ocean,
Throw my spirit o'er the past
Closing now between us fast.
Time and Distance in it find
Limit never,—flying ever,—
Leaving darkened Hope behind.
Soon yon quiet vessel's motion,
Soon shall yonder rolling ocean,
Throw my spirit o'er the past
Closing now between us fast.
Bid me, then, if aught be spoken,
Bid me cheerily “Good night”;
So that, waking, aye unbroken
Memory link it with the light.
Thus shall every morning cheer me,
Bring thine image ever near me,
With that word that seems to say,
“Part we only for a day.”
Bid me cheerily “Good night”;
So that, waking, aye unbroken
Memory link it with the light.
Thus shall every morning cheer me,
Bring thine image ever near me,
With that word that seems to say,
“Part we only for a day.”
362
Yet I know not why I ask thee
Now to play a hollow part:
No, I will not, will not task thee
Thus to veil an aching heart.
Truth and thou were never parted;
Part not now, though, broken-hearted,
Truth thy faltering tongue compel
Bitterly to say, “Farewell!”
Now to play a hollow part:
No, I will not, will not task thee
Thus to veil an aching heart.
Truth and thou were never parted;
Part not now, though, broken-hearted,
Truth thy faltering tongue compel
Bitterly to say, “Farewell!”
Speak it, then, nor stay the sadness
Brimming now within thine eyes:
Weep, O, weep,—nor think it madness
Thus thy burning tear to prize.
Man to woe was ever plighted;
Then be mine with thine united.—
O, 't were bliss, to him unknown,
Mourning for himself alone.
Brimming now within thine eyes:
Weep, O, weep,—nor think it madness
Thus thy burning tear to prize.
Man to woe was ever plighted;
Then be mine with thine united.—
O, 't were bliss, to him unknown,
Mourning for himself alone.
| Lectures on art, and poems | |