Classic Poem

Farewell, farewell! But no,
I cannot go,
I bridle back the word again
And lingering yet must still remain
Another hour or so.

To go and leave thee here,
I shrink in fear,
As though upon the brink of death
I saw its darkness spread beneath;
I cannot leave thee, dear.

Thy face is like the day
In month of May,
And day is voiceless, thou more sweet
Than Sirens' lips when they repeat
Some magic roundelay.

On thee I all depend
To live or end,
No hope have I except in thee,
Dear love, do thou kind Fortune be
My happiness to send.