Farewell! My arms could not contain your love,
nor my strangled verse touch your impetuous heart.
My faith, you said, I must in constancy prove
Before you would your secrets impart.
Was I not true to our moonlit oath?
Or am I guilty of some perfidious act?
Was it something I did, or said, or both
That made you forget our lover's pact?
I cannot say from whence you came,
Or to was distant climes you flee.
All I know is that my heart you claimed
And I would suffer it all again with glee.
Love, you are the most fleeting of dreams,
Made of shining stars and soft moonbeams.