Farewell! as the bee round the blossom Doth murmur drowsily, So murmureth round my bosom The memory of thee; Lingering, it seems to go, When the wind more full doth flow, Waving the flower to and fro, But still returneth, Marian! My hope no longer burneth, Which did so fiercely burn, My joy to sorrow turneth, Although loath, loath to turn,— I would forget— And yet—and yet My heart to thee still yearneth, Marian! Fair as a single star thou shinest, And white as lilies are The slender hands wherewith thou twinest Thy heavy auburn hair; Thou art to me A memory Of all that is divinest: Thou art so fair and tall, Thy looks so queenly are, Thy very shadow on the wall, Thy step upon the stair, The thought that thou art nigh, The chance look of thine eye Are more to me than all, Marian, And will be till I die! As the last quiver of a bell Doth fade into the air, With a subsiding swell That dies we know not where, So my hope melted and was gone: I raised mine eyes to bless the star That shared its light with me so far Below its silver throne, And gloom and chilling vacancy Were all was left to me, In the dark, bleak night I was alone! Alone in the blessed Earth, Marian, For what were all to me— Its love, and light, and mirth, Marian, If I were not with thee? My heart will not forget thee More than the moaning brine Forgets the moon when she is set; The gush when first I met thee That thrilled my brain like wine, Doth thrill as madly yet; My heart cannot forget thee, Though it may droop and pine, Too deeply it had set thee In every love of mine; No new moon ever cometh, No flower ever bloometh, No twilight ever gloometh But I’m more only thine. Oh look not on me, Marian, Thine eyes are wild and deep, And they have won me, Marian, From peacefulness and sleep; The sunlight doth not sun me, The meek moonshine doth shun me, All sweetest voices stun me,— There is no rest Within my breast And I can only weep, Marian!