I stand by the river where both of us stood,
And there is but one shadow to darken the flood;
And the path leading to it; where both used to pass,
Has the steo but one, to take dew from the grass, -
One forlorn since that day.

The flowers of the margin are many to see;
None stoops at my bidding to pluck them for me.
The bird in the alder sings loudly and long, -
my low sound of weeping disturbs not his song,
As thy vow did, that day.

I stand by the river, I think of the vow;
Oh, calm as the place is, vow-breaker, be thou!
I leave the flower growing, the bird unreproved;
Would I trouble thee ratherh than them, my beloved, -
And my lover that day?

Go, be sure of my love, by that treason forgiven;
Of my prayers, by the blessings they win thee from Heaven;
Of my gief - (guess the lenght of the sword by the sheath's)
By the silence of life, more pathetic than death's!
Go, - be clear of that day!