Take out the blossom in your hair abloom, No more it seemeth beautiful, or bright, And sickening is its subtly sweet perfume -- He will not come to-night.
Take off the necklace with its sparkling gem, And rings that glow and glitter in the light, And fling them in the case that waits for them -- He will not come to-night.
Take off the robe a little while ago You chose, to make you fairer in his sight; 'Tis ten o'clock. So late you can but know He will not come to-night.
He will not come. God grant you strength and grace, For never more upon your mortal sight Shall dawn a glimpse of that beloved face That did not come to-night.
He will not come. And through the shadowed years, The perfume of that blossom that you wore Shall stir the fount of salt and bitter tears -- For one who comes no more.
End of title
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