Farewell, farewell, my love Irene; The pangs of sadness stir my breast; Though many miles may intervene, My soul's with thine, in East or West. Go where thou wilt, to wealth or fame; Win for thyself or praise or blame, -- My love shall ever be the same, My love Irene. Farewell, farewell, my love Irene; Oh, sad decree, that we must part! The wound is deep, the pain is keen That agitates mine aching heart. My feverish eyes burn up their tears; I cannot still my doubts and fears; And this one sigh the night wind hears, -- My love Irene. Farewell, farewell, my love Irene; The morning's gray now floods the sky; The sun peeps from his misty screen; Mine only love, good-bye, good-bye. All love must fade, all life must die, The smile must turn into the sigh. Alas! how hard to say good-bye, My love Irene. |