Classic Poem

Good-by can be a happy word
— When lightly spoken,
As if a carefree heart conferred
— A trifling token.

But when we part from those held dear
— The voice grows tender;
We smile to hide the unwelcome tear
— And scorn surrender.

Hands clasped and seeing eye to eye,
— All else unheeding,
How sacred is the word good-by,
— Like suppliants pleading.

Good-by can be a happy word
— When lightly spoken,
As if a carefree heart conferred
— A trifling token.

But when we part from those held dear
— The voice grows tender;
We smile to hide the unwelcome tear
— And scorn surrender.

Hands clasped and seeing eye to eye,
— All else unheeding,
How sacred is the word good-by,
— Like suppliants pleading.