Good-Bye.

(To Miss E E.)


I cannot write, my tears are flowing fast,
    Yet weeping is unnatural to me;
Oh! that this hour of bitterness was past--
    The parting hour with all I love and thee

If I had never met or loved thee so,
    To part would not have caused me this sharp pain;
Parting so oft occurring here below,
    And they who part so seldom meet again.

Yet over land or sea, where'er I go,
    My home, my friends, shall flit before my eyes--
And oft I anxiously shall wish to know,
    If in thy bosom thoughts of me arise.

Oh, I will think of bygone days of glee,
    Though on each point of bitter sorrow driven;
I will not bid thee to remember me,
    But oh! see to it that we meet in Heaven.

1844.