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Poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox A Man’s Good-Bye Do you think, dear, as you say Such a light good-bye to-day, That this parting time may be Mayhaps less to you, than me? What a wonder of surprise Looks out from your sunny eyes. ’Just a nice acquaintance.’ So We have called it, dear, I know. Now you end it with a word, While my inmost soul is stirred. No--you cannot understand. But, dear, as I touch your hand, Listening to your light good-bye, All a man’s roused passions cry Like a tiger, stirred, at bay. Oh! you draw your hand away. ’I’ve no right to speak so?’ Pray Was it your right day by day By your sweet coquettish arts To invade my heart of hearts? It is death to let you go. You will hate me, dear, I know; But I swear, ere you go hence, I will have some recompense. For those fires you lit in vain, Cheeks and lips shall bear the stain Of my kisses till you die. Go now! this is my good-bye. Ella Wheeler Wilcox Ella Wheeler Wilcox's other poems:
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