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 marked 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 you, dear !"

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