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! the cruel moment's near,

When I must say farewell!

For hark! the cannon's sounds we hear

Of my departure tell.

Thy lover comes to give thee now

The last adieu, and part!

With sorrow overcast his brow,

And sorrowful his heart.

Come, object of my love divine!

Reach me those beauteous arms:

Would fate my happy lot assign

My home and rest thy charms,

The blow that threatens its decree

To give, I should not meet;

For sooner then than part, 't would see

Me dying at thy feet.

O! had our passion equal force,

Or been of equal growth,

The grief of absence might its course

Divide between us both!