Page:Poems Piatt.djvu/216

Yet holds this world one perfect thing,
 That leaves no room to weep or pine;
You gave it to me with a ring,
 To be for ever only mine.

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GOOD-BYE. [A WOMAN'S SONG.]

Good-bye, if it please you, sir, good-bye.
This is a world where the wild-swans fly.
This is a world where the thorn hangs on
When the rose, its twin, is gone, is gone.
 Good-bye—good-bye—good-bye.

Good-bye, if it please you, sir, good-bye.
You are here and away—I care not why.
This is a world where a man has his will,
A world where a woman had best be still.
 Good-bye—good-bye—good-bye.