We part,--yet wherefore should I weep,
From faithless thing like thee to sever?
Or let one tear mine eyelids steep,
While thus I cast thee off for ever?
I loved thee--need I say how well?
Few, few have ever loved so dearly;
As many a sleepless hour can tell,
And many a vow breath'd too sincerely.
But late, beneath its jetty lash,
I loved to mark thy blue eyes' splendour,
Which wont, all witchingly, to flash
On me its light so soft and tender;
Now, from that glance I turn away,
As if its thrilling gaze could wound me;
Though not, as once, in love's young day,
When thoughtless passion's fetters bound me.
The dimpling smile, with sweetness fraught,
The bosom, 'mid its snow, upheaving;
Who, that had seen them, could have thought
That things so fair could be deceiving?
The moon, the sky, the wave, the wind,
In all their fitful moods of changing,
Are nought to wavering woman's mind,
For ever shifting, ever ranging!
Farewell! I'd rather launch my bark
Upon the angry ocean billow,
'Mid wintry winds, and tempests dark,
Than make thy faithless breast my pillow.
Thy broken vow now cannot bind,
Thy streaming tears no more can move me,
And thus I turn from thee, to find
A heart that may more truly love me.