Nay, I have known it well for many days
You have grown tired of all tender ways;
Love’s kisses weary you, love’s eager words,
Old as the hills and sweet as singing-birds,
Are fetters hard to bear! O love, be free!
You will lose little joy in losing me;
Let me depart, remembering only this,
That once you loved me, and that once your kiss
Crown’d me with joy supreme enough to last
Through all my life till that brief life be past.