Peace! Let me go, or ere it be too late; Dip not your arrows in the honey-mead; Paint not the wound through which my heart doth bleed; Leave me unmock'd, unpitied to my fate-- Peace! Let me go. ...
Turn thine eyes from me, Angel of Heaven-- Read not my soul, Angel of Heaven-- Sorrow is steeping my pale cheeks with weeping, Evermore keeping her wand on my heart,...
Far, far away, over land and sea, When Winter comes with his cold, cold breath, And chills the flowers to the sleep of death, Far, far away over land and sea, Like a band of spirits the Passage-birds flee....