For Ever

Thrice with her lips she touched my lips,
Thrice with her hand my hand,
And three times thrice looked towards the sea,

But never to the land:
Then, " Sweet," she said, " no more delay,
For Heaven forbids a longer stay."

I, with my passion in my heart,
Could find no words to waste;
But striving often to depart,

I strained her to my breast:
Her wet tears washed my weary cheek;
I could have died but could not speak.

The anchor swings, the sheet flies loose
And, bending to the breeze.
The tall ship, never to return,

Flies through the foaming seas:
Cheerily ho! the sailors cry; —
My sweet love lessening in my eye.