Adieu, fair thing! without upbraiding

I fain would take a decent leave;

Thy beauty still survives unfading,

And undeceived may long deceive.

With him unto thy bosom dearer

Enjoy the moments as they flee;

I only wish his love sincerer

Than thy young heart has been to me.

1812.

[From a MS. in the possession of Mr. Murray, now for the first time printed.]