Take back the sigh, thy lips of art

 In passion's moment breathed to me;

Yet, no—it must not, will not part,

 'Tis now the life-breath of my heart,

And has become too pure for thee.

Take back the kiss, that faithless sigh

  With all the warmth of truth imprest;

Yet, no—the fatal kiss may lie,

Upon thy lip its sweets would die,

  Or bloom to make a rival blest.

Take back the vows that, night and day,

  My heart received, I thought, from thine;

Yet, no—allow them still to stay,

They might some other heart betray,

  As sweetly as they've ruined mine.