• I leave thee for awhile, my love, I leave thee with a sigh;
    The fountain spring within my soul is playing in mine eye;
    I do not blush to own the tear, let, let it touch my cheek,
    And what my lip has failed to tell, that drop perchance may speak.
    Mavourneen! when again I seek my green isle in the West,
    Oh, promise thou wilt share my lot, and set this heart at rest...