Fare thee well my
own true love.
Fare thee well, I say. . .
So sings the sweetest bird
that ever I have heard.
He sings inside his little cage
just like an actor from the stage.
A stage that he may never fly
though his wild peers may wonder why.
They perch upon the window sill
and listen to him sing his fill
until the sun sets and day doth end.
But faith. Tomorrow he'll sing again!
. . . And the rocks may melt and the seas may burn,
If I should not return.