Page:Memoir and poems of Phillis Wheatley, a native African and a slave.djvu/138

132 And in thy shades the storm shall calm,

With songs of Liberty!

Eliza, tell thy lover why

Or what induced thee to deceive me?

Fare thee well—away I fly—

I shun the lass who thus will grieve me.

Eliza, still thou art my song,

Although by force I may forsake thee;

Fare thee well, for I was wrong

To woo thee while another take thee.

Eliza, pause and think awhile—

Sweet lass! I shall forget thee never:

Fare thee well! although I smile,

I grieve to give thee up forever.

Eliza, I shall think of thee—

My heart shall ever twine about thee;

Fare thee well—but think of me,

Compell'd to live and die without thee.

"Fare thee well!—and if forever,

Still forever fare thee well!"