But, oh! how changed they seem!
Why should I love thee, thou false-hearted?
Thou smil’st, but smil’st no more for me!
The bloom hath not thy lip departed,
Thy voice hath still its witchery.
But looks and words, though they bewitch me,
Can paint no love, where love is not;
Thy very kindnesses but teach me
How much I am forgot!
Why should I love thee? Why repine?