Hymns from A Winged Archer

Say Au Revior, But not goodbye
For parting brings a bitter sigh.
The Past is gone though mem’ry brings
One clinging thought, the Future lives.

Our duty first, love must not lead,
for what had been, had fate decreed
twee’r better far, had we not met,
I loved you then, I’ll love you yet.

This one goodbye must be our last.
The word is spoke, the die is cast.
Yet still my heart, throbs wild with pain.
And tho we ne’er, shal’t meet again?

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