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The Humorous Poetry of the English Language

by James Parton (editor)

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ADDRESSED TO ** **** ***** ON THE 29TH Of SEPTEMBER
          WHEN WE PARTED FOR THE LAST TIME.

PUNCH.

I have watch’d thee with rapture, and dwelt on thy charms,
  As link’d in Love’s fetters we wander’d each day;
And each night I have sought a new life in thy arms,
  And sigh’d that our union could last not for aye.

But thy life now depends on a frail silken thread,
  Which I even by kindness may cruelly sever,
And I look to the moment of parting with dread,
  For I feel that in parting I lose thee forever.

Sole being that cherish’d my poor troubled heart!
  Thou know’st all its secrets—each joy and each grief;
And in sharing them all thou did’st ever impart
  To its sorrows a gentle and soothing relief.

The last of a long and affectionate race,
  As thy days are declining I love thee the more,
For I feel that thy loss I can never replace—
  That thy death will but leave me to weep and deplore.

Unchanged, thou shalt live in the mem’ry of years,
  I can not—I will not—forget what thou wert!
While the thoughts of thy love as they call forth my tears,
  In fancy will wash thee once more—MY LAST SHIRT.
GRUB-STREET.

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