Do you think, dear, as you say
Such a light good-bye to-day,
That this parting time may be
Mayhaps less to you, than me?
What a wonder of surprise
Looks out from your sunny eyes.
'Just a nice acquaintance.' So
We have called it, dear, I know.
Now you end it with a word,
While my inmost soul is stirred.
No--you cannot understand.
But, dear, as I touch your hand,
Listening to your light good-bye,
All a man's roused passions cry
Like a tiger, stirred, at bay.
Oh! you draw your hand away.
'I've no right to speak so?' Pray
Was it _your_ right day by day
By your sweet coquettish arts
To invade my heart of hearts?
It is death to let you go.
You will hate me, dear, I know;
But I swear, ere you go hence,
I will have some recompense.
For those fires you lit in vain,
Cheeks and lips shall bear the stain
Of my kisses till you die.
Go now! this is my good-bye.