Farewell !—we shall not meet again
As we are parting now!
I must my beating heart restrain—
Must veil my burning brow!
Oh, I must coldly learn to hide
One thought, all else above—
Must call upon my woman's pride
To hide my woman's love!
Check dreams I never may avow;
Be free, be careless, cold as thou!
Oh! those are tears of bitterness,
Wrung from the breaking heart,
When two blest in their tenderness
Must learn to live—apart!
But what are they to that long sigh,
That cold and fixed despair,
That weight of wasting agony

I love Primroses wi their mole eyed faces
In Briery borders and wood mossy places
I love pale primroses well
And the wild Blue bell
Primroses I love in the Briery dell

I love it for the sake of young school boys
A school boy once myself I shared their joys
Teasing through thorns
On Aprils dewy morns
I love to hear in woods the young school boys

They scramble for Primrose and Violet
And handfuls mid oak leaves they get
They spy in hedge row prest
With eggs a Black birds nest
They take out the eggs and the poor birds fret

Tide be runnin' the great world over:
'Twas only last June month I mind that we
Was thinkin' the toss and the call in the breast of the lover
So everlastin' as the sea.

Here's the same little fishes that sputter and swim,
Wi' the moon's old glim on the gray, wet sand;
An' him no more to me nor me to him
Than the wind goin' over my hand.

In natures peeces still I see
Some errour, that might mended bee;
Something my wish could still remove,
Alter or adde; but my faire love
Was fram'd by hands farre more divine;
For she hath every beauteous line:
Yet I had beene farre happier,
Had Nature that made me, made her;
Then likenes, might (that love creates)
Have made her love what now she hates:
Yet I confesse I cannot spare,
From her just shape the smallest haire;
Nor need I beg from all the store
Of heaven, for her one beautie more:
Shee hath too much divinity for mee,

My fault, my greatest fault,
O sea-eyed princess,
was to love you
as a child loves.
(The greatest lovers,
after all, are children)

My first mistake
(and not my last)
was to live
in the state of wonder
ready to be amazed
by the simple span
of night and day,

and ready for every woman
I loved to break me
into a thousand pieces to make
me an open city,
and to leave me behind her
as dust.
My weakness was to see
the world with the logic of a child.

And my mistake was dragging
love out of its cave into the open air,

One last kiss … then with tender eyes we went
Forth from the shadowy house of scattered light;
As children startled by a gruesome sight,
We wondered what the dim black waggon meant.

“A girl is dead,” we heard, and this was all;
But in my sleepless dreams she flutters past,
Like some unknown lost sister, found at last
Beyond the locked gate of a silent wall.

Had she been loved as I was loved, and died?
(Once in his arms I thought my heart would break!)
Could she not bear the kisses that I bore?

I have found a nobler love
Than the sordid world doth know
Above its envy or belief
My flames of passion glow

Had I known that you were going
I would have given you messages for her,
Now two years dead,
Whom I shall always love.

As it is, should she entreat you how it goes with me,
You must reply: as well as with most, you fancy;
That I love easily, and pass the time.

And she will not know how all day long between
My life and me her shadow intervenes,
A young thin girl,
Wearing a white skirt and a purple sweater
And a narrow pale blue ribbon about her hair.

I used to say to her, “I love you
Because your face is such a pretty colour,

P HAUORINUS vs'd to praise the quartaine-feauer;
Ould, beyond the moone would nutts commend;
Virgill, a gnatt, and Homer, honor'd euer
The fight of froggs, which do the most offend:
If these pure Wits most praise what most abhorre
What maruell ist though Marcus praise his whore.