Song! I am tired to death! Here let me lie
Where we have paced the moving trees along!
Till I recover from my ecstasy,
Farewell, my Song!

Once more unto your pipe I lend my rhyme,
Who went in woodland ways with you along!
We have been happy for a little time!
Farewell, my Song!

Soon, soon, return, or all my life is naught!
Come soon, and we will pace the woods along:
And tell unto each other all our thought!
Farewell, my Song!

And when, again, you do come back to me,
Under the sounding trees we'll pace along:
While to your pipe I raise my poesy:
Farewell, my Song!