Classic Poem

They tell me thou hast gone from me
O'er the wide and stormy sea;
I'll not believe the tale they tell—
Thou wouldst at least have said, farewell!

They tell me that thy alter'd brow
Retains no trace of beauty now;
That sin and shame have blanch'd thee pale—
I'll not believe the sland'rous tale!

Thy bloom is gone—perhaps it fled
Quench'd by the tears that thou hast shed
Thinking of her—I'll not upbraid thee—
I am, alas! what thou hast made me.

I would not weep this last adieu
Could I believe thee else than true;
If 'tis a dream, and I should wake
To know thee false, my heart would break!

My days on earth have fleeted fast,
And I have lov'd thee to the last;
Thy fatal love hath ruin'd me,
But my last thought's a prayer for thee!