A notch for memory...

What is going on with me ?
Sleep and calm from me both flee.
Quite a trifle it may be.
Yet upsets me dreadfully !


Darling, sailing north to sea,
Parting with me tenderly,
Left a fir-tree market for me
With a notch for memory.

"If it's overgrown", he said,
"Never will I come back here;
Hurricanes won't spare my head !
Never will i see my car again !"

So I pine, poor friend, once gay;
Up the cliffs I climb each day.
such a trifle, I must say,
Yet each day I waste away.


Every morning without cease
I re-cut that notch again.
Tell me, oceans, tell me, seas,
Seaways shining on the main !
Is he live and hale, and where
Does he roam ? dispel my care !

Waves roll homeward over seas,
Homeward flies the nippy breeze,
Yet my car can't be seen...


Must I cut our fir-tree clean
Through the stem, do tell me please ?