We are always saying
       &nbsp “Good-bye, good-bye!”
In work, in playing,
In gloom, in gaying:
       &nbsp At many a stage
       &nbsp Of pilgrimage
       &nbsp From youth to age
       &nbsp We say, “Good-bye,
       &nbsp       &nbsp Good-bye!”

We are undiscerning
       &nbsp Which go to sigh,
Which will be yearning
For soon returning;
       &nbsp And which no more
       &nbsp Will dark our door,
       &nbsp Or tread our shore,
       &nbsp But go to die,
       &nbsp       &nbsp To die.

Some come from roaming
       &nbsp With joy again;
Some, who come homing
By stealth at gloaming,
       &nbsp Had better have stopped
       &nbsp Till death, and dropped
       &nbsp By strange hands propped,
       &nbsp Than come so fain,
       &nbsp       &nbsp So fain.
So, with this saying,
       &nbsp “Good-bye, good-bye,”
We speed their waying
Without betraying
       &nbsp Our grief, our fear
       &nbsp No more to hear
       &nbsp From them, close, clear,
       &nbsp Again: “Good-bye,
       &nbsp       &nbsp Good-bye!”