He Is Gone! He Is Gone!

He is gone! he is gone!Like the leaf from the tree;Or the down that is blownBy the wind o'er the lea.He is fled, the light-hearted!Yet a tear must have startedTo his eye, when he partedFrom love-stricken me!

He is fled! he is fled!Like a gallant so free,Plumed cap on his head,And sharp sword by his knee;While his gay feathers fluttered,Surely something he muttered,He at least must have utteredA farewell to me!

He's away! he's awayTo far lands o'er the sea,—

And long is the dayEre home he can be;But where'er his steed prances,Amid thronging lances,Sure he'll think of the glancesThat love stole from me!

He is gone! he is gone!Like the leaf from the tree;But his heart is of stoneIf it ne'er dream of me!For I dream of him ever:His buff-coat and beaver,And long-sword, O, neverAre absent from me!