&nbsp Indulge no more may we
In this sweet-bitter pastime:
The love-light shines the last time
       &nbsp Between you, Dear, and me.

       &nbsp There shall remain no trace
Of what so closely tied us,
And blank as ere love eyed us
       &nbsp Will be our meeting-place.

       &nbsp The flowers and thymy air,
Will they now miss our coming?
The dumbles thin their humming
       &nbsp To find we haunt not there?

       &nbsp Though fervent was our vow,
Though ruddily ran our pleasure,
Bliss has fulfilled its measure,
       &nbsp And sees its sentence now.

       &nbsp Ache deep; but make no moans:
Smile out; but stilly suffer:
The paths of love are rougher
       &nbsp Than thoroughfares of stones.