On Parting
The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has leftShall never part from mine,Till happier hours restore the giftUntainted back to thine.
Thy parting glance, which fondly beams,An equal love may see:The tear that from thine eyelid streamsCan weep no change in me.
I ask no pledge to make me blestIn gazing when alone;Nor one memorial for a breast,Whose thoughts are all thine own.
Nor need I write--to tell the taleMy pen were doubly weak:Oh! what can idle words avail,Unless the heart could speak?
By day or night, in weal or woe,That heart, no longer free,Must bear the love it cannot show,And silent ache for thee.
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