We wandered, romancing, through moon-swept lanes, 
Losing ourselves in little lilting dreams, 
Pausing a moment by a white stone bench 
To mark its carvings, shadowed by the beams. 

It seems now that I lost myself in you, 
And with your leaving, part of me is gone; 
The part that I loved best; gone, lost to me - 
But come! This is no way to carry on! 

Now how could I have thought I cared for you? 
Surely there's no appeal in you for me. 
Still there are times -- Oh, I --- But that's enough! 
I guess I'd best keep still and let things be. 

         Sandy Doone.