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But not to feel slow pangs consume my liver,
To die by piece-meal in the bloom of age,
My boiling blood drunk by insatiate fever,
And brain delirious with the dog-star's rage,
To die by piece-meal in the bloom of age,
My boiling blood drunk by insatiate fever,
And brain delirious with the dog-star's rage,
Can make me know such grief, as thus to sever
With many a bitter sigh, dear land, from thee;
To feel this heart must dote on thee for ever,
And feel that all thy joys are torn from me.
With many a bitter sigh, dear land, from thee;
To feel this heart must dote on thee for ever,
And feel that all thy joys are torn from me.
Ah me! how oft will fancy's spells in slumber
Recal my native country to my mind;
How oft regret will bid me sadly number
Each lost delight, and dear friend left behind.
Recal my native country to my mind;
How oft regret will bid me sadly number
Each lost delight, and dear friend left behind.
Wild Murcia's vales, and loved romantic bowers,
The river on whose banks, a child, I play'd;
My castle's ancient halls, its frowning towers,
Each much regretted wood and well known glade :
The river on whose banks, a child, I play'd;
My castle's ancient halls, its frowning towers,
Each much regretted wood and well known glade :
Dreams of the land where all my wishes centre;
Thy scenes which I am doomed no more to know,
Full oft shall memory trace, my soul's tormentor,
And turn each pleasure past to present woe.
Thy scenes which I am doomed no more to know,
Full oft shall memory trace, my soul's tormentor,
And turn each pleasure past to present woe.
But lo! the sun beneath the waves retires;
Night speeds apace, her empire to restore;
Clouds from my sight obscure the village spires,
Now seen but faintly, and now seen no more.
Night speeds apace, her empire to restore;
Clouds from my sight obscure the village spires,
Now seen but faintly, and now seen no more.
