THE ADIEU.
237
THE ADIEU.
WRITTEN UNDER THE IMPRESSION THAT THE AUTHOR WOULD SOON DIE.
1.
Adieu, thou Hill![1] where early joy
Spread roses o'er my brow;
Where Science seeks each loitering boy
With knowledge to endow.
Adieu, my youthful friends or foes,
Partners of former bliss or woes;
No more through Ida's paths we stray;
Soon must I share the gloomy cell,
Whose ever-slumbering inmates dwell
Unconscious of the day.
2.
Adieu, ye hoary Regal Fanes,[2]
Ye spires of Granta's vale,
Where Learning robed in sable reigns,
And Melancholy pale.
Ye comrades of the jovial hour,
