Ii

Come back, come back--ah, never more to leave me! Come back, even though your constant longing grieve me, Longing for other looks and hands than mine. By all that's most divine In your frank human beauty, come and cover With that deceiving smile the love your lover Has taught you, and the light that in your eyes Tells of the painful joys that make your ruinous Paradise.

Come back, that so, upon the shining meadow When the sun draws the magic of your shadow, Or when the red fire's gradual sinking light Yields up the room to night; Seeing you thus or thus I may recapture The very sharpness of remembered rapture:-- So it may seem, by exquisite deceit, You are yet mine, I yours, and life yet rare and sweet.

Come back--no, come not back now, come back never; That day you went I knew it was for ever. I know you, how the spectre of cold shame Would chill you if you came. Lo, here first love's first memory abideth; Here in my heart the image of you yet hideth. But though you should come back and hope thrilled me anew, First love would yet be dead--oh, it would not be you!