Ah, Faithless! all this winter long
   My pain has been thy pastime;
I loved with heart, and soul, and song,--
Thine all the sport, mine all the wrong, --
   Beware! it is the last time.
          For now I know thee.  Thou would'st fain
          Thyself undo the darling chain,
          And cast me on the world again,
               A lonely man, to-morrow!
          But no! I swear that must not be!
          Thou can'st not, if thou would'st, be free!
          Ah! faithless, heartless, thou shalt see
               What strength despair can borrow;
   For, be it well, or be it ill,
   I feel that I must love thee still,
               Through scorn, and pain, and sorrow!
 
Ah, Cruel! though my love were shown
   In strangely silent fashion,
Thou could'st have guessed it -- thou alone!
In every look and every tone
   That told the tale of passion!
          Alas! had I more boldly woo'd,
          Had I with fiery vows pursued,
          Ah! then, perchance, I had subdued
             And made thee mine forever!
          But, by the bitter fate that drove me,
          By every star that shines above me,
          I swear that I will make thee love me
            Despite thine own endeavour!
   Nor life nor death shall set thee free;
   And neither Heav'n, nor earth, nor sea,
            Thy life and mine shall sever!