Farewell, my joy

Farewell, my joy! For other hearts the Spring,

For other eyes the roses; but for me

The iron gate, the shadowy cypress-tree,

The solemn dirge that cloistered voices sing.

Farewell, my joy! Alas, I loved thee well!

For no light matter had I let thee go.

I cherished thee in rain, and wind, and snow.

I bound thee to my breast with many a spell.

Hail and farewell, my joy! If I might give

To one sweet friend the rapture that I miss,

Read in her eyes that ecstasy of bliss,

Tho' death were in my own, I yet should live.