THE VOW OF THE PEACOCK.
99
Farewell, farewell. I do resign
All hope of love—all early claim;
I only ask that I may pine
Upon the memory of thy name.
Alas! I linger ere I go,
So drowning wretches grasp the wave;
I cannot quite endure to throw
The last cold earth on young Love's grave.
No more; another word would be
A prayer to keep me still thine own.
So long my heart has beat for thee,
How can it beat at once alone?
Farewell,—it is the heart's farewell,—
My summer-shine of love past o'er,
