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, smooth your hair for another lover, Refold the satin, restring the pearls, Lest those who will take my place discover Discoloured tints and dishevelled curls.

Lift up those delicate lips that mine Reddened with kisses but yesterday, Let others drink the dregs of the wine We two have tasted and flung away.

I wish you well; go gather the gold, The little triumphs you hold so dear, For you the pasture, the sheltered fold: Ways smoothed by custom and fenced by fear.

You could not have lived aloof, afar In golden deserts, by lonely streams, Be rich, be courted, be all you are, But seek not silence, nor love nor dreams.

Yet what am I that my song should shame you, What strength have I, that I call you weak? Ah, Love alone has the right to blame you And He is a God and will not speak.

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