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Rh There is no need of any sigh or token That thou wilt not forget our olden love : I am as sure of that which thou hast spoken As though it came on sunbeams from above. Thine eyes must not be dim with tears, yet, dearest, Thy last look should be sunshine, breathe no sigh. Thy head must rest once more where thou art nearest — Upon my heart, and then good-bye, good-bye.

CANNOT speak, we grow so dumb with sorrow; I cannot look, mine eyes are blind with tears; I cannot say, "We meet again to-morrow;" I cannot gaze along the weary years. "Good-bye, good-bye," the autumn air is sighing, The very flowers droop in sadness sweet, Upon the hills a purple pall is lying, The stealthy waves creep up unto my feet.