Adieu! thou proud but lovely one

Adieu! thou proud but lovely one, whose all-surpassing charms
Allured me on to hope for rest and bliss within thine arms;
No feign'd, no fickle love is mine—by dying thou shalt see
I rather bear the shock of death than parting's misery.

Adieu! the heavenly lineaments that cause my swift decay;
My tears have gush'd, my tears have flow'd, to wash love's stain away;
The ungrateful drops desert me now; but sorrow will not fly:
Yet, since thou wishest death to me, 'twill be a joy to die.

Adieu! thou fragrant blushing mouth, within whose ruby cell
Two rows of fair inhabitants in pearly whiteness dwell,
Whence issue notes of blissfulness, whilst mine are of despair,—
Which makes me feel this last farewell more hard than death to bear.

Adieu! the fairy hands, that bound with bonds which could not sever,
My hands and heart, and life and soul, and speech and thought for ever:
For these I gave to slavery's chains, when I was blest and free,
And thus I yield, with this adieu, my life itself to thee.

Adieu! the soft bewitching voice, that feelingly imparts
A joyous sense of ecstasy to cold and joyless hearts.
Ah! how could passion fond as mine so unrelenting prove,
That I should rather sigh for death than part with her I love?

Adieu! the graceful ivory neck, more fair than winter's snow;
Since I must perish in my youth, some pity yet bestow,
And sepulchre beneath thy breast the heart so keenly tried,
Then thou wilt know how tranquilly—how blissfully I died.