Now know I, Parting is such sweet sorrow
No more, twixt moon and stars, that face to behold,
Goodnight, Goodnight, til it be morrow,
Fair smile that banisheed dark and cold,
Soft words no longer shall indulge my laboured mind
Nor calm this heart of captive bird,
Away with thy witchcraft, my soul to unbind
Much worse, it be done, nay utter a word
Mind must such fancies ****** ‘neath night skies
And yet; No more can I your ghost depose,
Than with mine own hand, pluck out mine eyes,
And by such act, forget a rose
No longer graced with thee to stroll,
But return to toil, my penance, my toll.