For the king of Babylon stood at the parting of the way, at the
head of the two ways, read more

For the king of Babylon stood at the parting of the way, at the
head of the two ways, to use divination: he made his arrows
bright, he consulted with images, he looked in the liver.

Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting,
The parting hour is come!
And fast thy soul is fleeting
read more

Adieu! 'tis love's last greeting,
The parting hour is come!
And fast thy soul is fleeting
To seek its starry home.

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish read more

Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish it so?
You would have blush'd yourself to death
To own so much a year ago.
What! both these snowy hands? ah, then
I'll have to say, Good-night again.

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings read more

She went her unremembering way,
She went and left in me
The pang of all the partings gone,
And partings yet to be.

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said
Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days
That read more

Good-night! good-night! as we so oft have said
Beneath this roof at midnight, in the days
That are no more, and shall no more return.
Thou hast but taken up thy lamp and gone to bed;
I stay a little longer, as one stays
To cover up the embers that still burn.

If we must part forever,
Give me but one kind word to think upon,
And please myself read more

If we must part forever,
Give me but one kind word to think upon,
And please myself with, while my heart's breaking.

Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
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Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
Oh no, no, no, I dare not.

We two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years.

We two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted
To sever for years.

Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill,
read more

Kathleen Mavourneen, the gray dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill,
The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking--
Kathleen Mavourneen, what, slumbering, still?
Oh hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever?
Oh hast thou forgotten this day we must part?
It may be for years and it may be forever;
Oh why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?