1   ’Tis done—and shivering in the gale   The bark unfurls her snowy sail;   And whistling o’er the bending mast,   Loud sings on high the fresh’ning blast;   And I must from this land be gone,   Because I cannot love but one. 2   But could I be what I have been,   And could I see what I have seen—   Could I repose upon the breast   Which once my warmest wishes blest—   I should not seek another zone,   Because I cannot love but one. 3   ’Tis long since I beheld that eye   Which gave me bliss or misery;   And I have striven, but in vain,   Never to think of it again:   For though I fly from Albion,   I still can only love but one. 4   As some lone bird, without a mate,   My weary heart is desolate;   I look around, and cannot trace   One friendly smile or welcome face,   And ev’n in crowds am still alone,   Because I cannot love but one. 5   And I will cross the whitening foam,   And I will seek a foreign home;   Till I forget a false fair face,   I ne’er shall find a resting-place;   My own dark thoughts I cannot shun,   But ever love, and love but one. 6   The poorest, veriest wretch on earth   Still finds some hospitable hearth,   Where Friendship’s or Love’s softer glow   May smile in joy or soothe in woe;   But friend or leman I have none,’   Because I cannot love but one. 7   I go—but wheresoe’er I flee   There’s not an eye will weep for me;   There’s not a kind congenial heart,   Where I can claim the meanest part;   Nor thou, who hast my hopes undone,   Wilt sigh, although I love but one. 8   To think of every early scene,   Of what we are, and what we’ve been,   Would whelm some softer hearts with woe—   But mine, alas! has stood the blow;   Yet still beats on as it begun,   And never truly loves but one. 9   And who that dear lov’d one may be,   Is not for vulgar eyes to see;   And why that early love was cross’d,   Thou know’st the best, I feel the most;   But few that dwell beneath the sun   Have loved so long, and loved but one. 10   I’ve tried another’s fetters too,   With charms perchance as fair to view;   And I would fain have loved as well,   But some unconquerable spell   Forbade my bleeding breast to own   A kindred care for aught but one. 11   ’Twould soothe to take one lingering view,   And bless thee in my last adieu;   Yet wish I not those eyes to weep   For him that wanders o’er the deep;   His home, his hope, his youth are gone,   Yet still he loves, and loves but one.