As time draws near, my dearest dear,
when you and I must part
how little you know
of the grief and woe
of my poor aching heart.
Each night I suffer for your sake;
you're the one I love so dear.
I wish that I was going with you
or you were staying here.
I wish my breast was made of glass
wherein you might behold
that there your name lies wrote, my love,
in letters made of gold.
My love, believe me when I say
you are the one that I adore
until my dying day.
The blackest crow that e'er did fly
would surely turn to white
if ever I prove false to you
bright day would turn to night
my love, the elements would mourn.
If ever I prove false to you,
the seas would rage and burn.
So, when you're on some distant shore,
think of your absent friend.
And when the wind blows high and clear,
a line to me pray send.
When the wind blows high and clear
pray send your love to me
that I may know, by your handwrite,
how time has gone with thee.
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