And bade farewell to me there.
And true, too true, were the words she spake
From the depths of her despair,
That never again should I touch her lips,
Or tangle her golden hair.
In my ear a song is ringing,
An echo from out the East,—
I heard it from Soti's cliffs on the night
When I left my friends at the feast.
How could I know that never again