A Sicilian Story :: :: University of Virginia Library

When shall we three meet again?
We will meet when the storms and rain
Of Autumn come, and the winds go by
Our dwelling with a fearful cry,
And shake the red leaves from the trees;
And when they say that the year must die,
Amongst their dreary harmonies
We'll mingle a wild but livelier strain,
And sing “We three have met again.”

Three sprightly spirits are we now;
One upon her maiden brow
Bears life and beauty, and her smile
Shall cheer me on for many a mile;

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For I am going far away,
To see the blue and cloudless day
Shine on the fields of Italy:
What tho' full many a heavy hour
May press me with its silent power,
And I, upon a foreign shore
A stranger, feel that touch the more;
Yet, from amidst my sadness, I
Will look upon futurity,
And half forget my moody vein,
In the thought that “We shall meet again.”

When the Autumn nights are long
We will sing some pleasant song;
And you, my friend, whose silver tone
Makes Music's very voice your own,
You shall pour your richest numbers,
And 'wake the silent night from slumbers;
And gentle Helen thou shalt be
Queen of the hour to him and me,
And we will braid amidst thy hair
Roses like thy bosom fair,
And we will laugh and worship thee,
As the spirit of poetry.

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Away, away—for I must go
Over the wild and bounding waters;
But amongst the Roman daughters
I shall think of thee, as now:
And— —if a lofty line
Remind me of thy verse divine,
Or if some sweet melody
Should bring a thought of home to me,
I will neglect the soothing strain,
To sigh “Oh! may we meet again.”