Classic Poem

Is there a tear that scalds the cheek?
Is there a sigh the bosom rends?
Is there a grief we cannot speak?
'T is at the last adieu of friends.

The hearts that long have blent their cares
Are by a thousand fibres twined,
And cruel is the pang that tears
The links that fasten mind to mind.

But friends must part with those most dear,
The severing pang their hearts must swell;
Misfortune will extract the tear
That trickles when we bid farewell.