My Love Irene.

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by Paul Laurence Dunbar

Farewell, farewell, my love Irene;
The pangs of sadness stir my breast;
Though many miles may intervene,
My soul's with thine, in East or West.
Go where thou wilt, to wealth or fame;
Win for thyself or praise or blame,
My love shall ever be the same,
My love Irene.

Farewell, farewell, my love Irene;
Oh, sad decree, that we must part!
The wound is deep, the pain is keen
That agitates mine aching heart.
My feverish eyes burn up their tears;
I cannot still my doubts and fears;
And this one sigh the night wind hears,
My love Irene.

Farewell, farewell, my love Irene;
The morning's gray now floods the sky;
The sun peeps from his misty screen;
Mine only love, good-bye, good-bye.
All love must fade, all life must die,
The smile must turn into the sigh.
Alas! how hard to say good-bye,
My love Irene.

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