Mine may be a fate more lonely,
In some sick and foreign ward,
Where my weary eyes meet only
Hired nurse or sullen guard.
Dearest maiden, thou art weeping,
Must I from those eyes remove?
Hath thy heart no soft pulse sleeping
Which might ripen into love?
No! I see thy brow is frozen,
And thy look is cold and strange;
Ah! when once the heart has chosen,
Well I know it cannot change.
And I know that heart has spoken
That another’s it must be.
Scarce I wish that pure faith broken,
Though the falsehood were for me.
No: be still the guileless creature
That upon my boyhood shone;
Couldst thou change thy angel nature,
Half my faith in heaven were gone.
Still thy memory shall be cherished,
Dear as it is now to me;
When all gentler thoughts have perished,
One shall linger yet for thee.
Farewell!—With those words I sever
Every tie of youth and home;
Thou, fair isle! adieu for ever!
See, a boat cuts through the foam.
Wind, time, tide, alike are pressing,
I must hasten from the shore.
One first kiss, and one last blessing—
Farewell, love! we meet no more.
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