We are drifting apart,
Though from no change of heart:
But we cannot agree,
And the end we can see,
So the bonds of our love we will sever;
And I wonder if we
Will, alas! too late see
That our happiness lay in each other.
For when soul finds its mate
It is often too late
To struggle and fight against conquering fate.
And what does it mean?
This parting, I ween;
I'll leave you, but, well.
Neither heaven nor hell
Will make me forget you.
Nor save you should I find
Another holds the place that was and is mine.