Song

I went to her who loveth me no more,
...And prayed her bear with me, if so she might;
For I had found day after day too sore,
...And tears that would not cease night after night.
And so I prayed her, weeping, that she bore
To let me be with her a little; yea,
...To soothe myself a little with her sight,
Who loved me once, ah! many a night and day.

Then she who loveth me no more, maybe
...She pitied somewhat: and I took a chain
To bind myself to her, and her to me;
...Yea, so that I might call her mine again.
Lo! she forbade me not; but I and she
Fettered her fair limbs, and her neck more fair,
...Chained the fair wasted white of love's domain,
And put gold fetters on her golden hair.

Oh! the vain joy it is to see her lie
...Beside me once again; beyond release,
Her hair, her hand, her body, till she die,
...All mine, for me to do with as I please!
For, after all, I find no chain whereby
To chain her heart to love me as before,
...Nor fetter for her lips, to make them cease
From saying still she loveth me no more.

Arthur O'Shaughnessy