Poems (Rowe)/The Farewell
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For works with similar titles, see The Farewell.
THE FAREWELL
THEY tell me that this fleeting breath
Must soon, Love, pass away,
And I have wept, for life to me
Has been one Summer day.
Oh! I shall never see again
All that my heart holds dear,
The Birds, the Flowers, my Mother's grave,
I leave behind me here.
Must soon, Love, pass away,
And I have wept, for life to me
Has been one Summer day.
Oh! I shall never see again
All that my heart holds dear,
The Birds, the Flowers, my Mother's grave,
I leave behind me here.
And, thou too, whom my soul adores,
On Earth we'll never meet.
I feel afraid to die alone,
With thee, it would be sweet.
I know 'tis wrong to murmur thus
'Gainst God's divine decree,
But Life is sweet unto the young,
And, I am leaving thee!
On Earth we'll never meet.
I feel afraid to die alone,
With thee, it would be sweet.
I know 'tis wrong to murmur thus
'Gainst God's divine decree,
But Life is sweet unto the young,
And, I am leaving thee!
My image from that fond true heart,
Ne'er let it fade away—
My breath grows short—I have forgot
Half what I wished to say.
Pray God above, oh! plead for me,
That we may meet on high.
'Twas wrong, perhaps, to love so well—
Ah! Kiss me, Love—I die.
Ne'er let it fade away—
My breath grows short—I have forgot
Half what I wished to say.
Pray God above, oh! plead for me,
That we may meet on high.
'Twas wrong, perhaps, to love so well—
Ah! Kiss me, Love—I die.