The swallow with summer br Will wing o'er the seas, br The wind that I sigh to br Will visit thy trees. br The ship that it hastens br Thy ports will contain, br But me!—I must never br See England again! br There's many that weep there, br But one weeps alone, br For the tears that are falling br So far from her own; br So far from thy own, love, br We know not our pain; br If death is between us, br Or only the main. br When the white cloud reclines br On the verge of the sea, br I fancy the white cliffs, br And dream upon thee; br But the cloud spreads its wings br To the blue heav'n and flies.