Saying Good-Bye (Song)

We are always saying "Good-bye, good-bye!" In work, in playing, In gloom, in gaying: At many a stage Of pilgrimage From youth to age We say, "Good-bye, Good-bye!" We are undiscerning Which go to sigh, Which will be yearning For soon returning; And which no more Will dark our door, Or tread our shore, But go to die, To die. Some come from roaming With joy again; Some, who come homing By stealth at gloaming, Had better have stopped Till death, and dropped By strange hands propped, Than come so fain, So fain. So, with this saying, "Good-bye, good-bye," We speed their waying Without betraying Our grief, our fear No more to hear From them, close, clear, Again: "Good-bye, Good-bye!"