On Parting

 The kiss, dear maid! thy lip has left 
 Shall never part from mine, 
 Till happier hours restore the gift 
 Untainted back to thine. 
 
 Thy parting glance, which fondly beams, 
 An equal love may see: 
 The tear that from thine eyelid streams 
 Can weep no change in me. 
 
 I ask no pledge to make me blest 
 In gazing when alone; 
 Nor one memorial for a breast, 
 Whose thoughts are all thine own. 
 
 Nor need I write—to tell the tale 
 My pen were doubly weak: 
 Oh! what can idle words avail, 
 Unless the heart could speak? 
 
 By day or night, in weal or woe, 
 That heart, no longer free, 
 Must bear the love it cannot show, 
 And silent ache for thee.
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