With all my soul, then, let us part,

  Since both are anxious to be free;

And I will sand you home your heart,

  If you will send mine back to me.

We've had some happy hours together,

  But joy must often change its wing;

And spring would be but gloomy weather,

  If we had nothing else but spring.

'Tis not that I expect to find

  A more devoted, fond and true one,

With rosier cheek or sweeter mind—

  Enough for me that she's a new one.

Thus let us leave the bower of love,

  Where we have loitered long in bliss;

And you may down that pathway rove,

  While I shall take my way through this.