With all my soul, then, let us part,
Since both are anxious to be free;
And I will sand you home your heart,
If you will send mine back to me.
We've had some happy hours together,
But joy must often change its wing;
And spring would be but gloomy weather,
If we had nothing else but spring.
'Tis not that I expect to find
A more devoted, fond and true one,
With rosier cheek or sweeter mind--
Enough for me that she's a new one.
Thus let us leave the bower of love,
Where we have loitered long in bliss;
And you may down _that_ pathway rove,
While I shall take my way through _this_.