Classic Poem

If absence makes the heart grow fonder,
Sweet, my love, I wish you gone;
For I shall love you better, yonder,
If absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Cheer up, sweet, what makes you ponder?
This is a truth I've hit upon:
If absence makes the heart grow fonder,
Sweet, my love, I wish you gone.

He's a fool who yearns to barter
The present for increase of bliss.
Love too often proves a Tartar,
He's a fool who yearns to barter,
And I've no mind to make a martyr,
While there's time, come, let us kiss.
He's a fool who yearns to barter
The present for increase of bliss.