Farewell.
[James Murray.—Here first printed.]
When we're parted, think not thou
I'll forget our plighted vow—
Other looks from other eyes—
Other whispers—other sighs—
Other forms, though fair they be,
Shall not wean my soul from thee.
Oft as balmy twilight flings
Dewdrops from her dusky wings—
Oft as coming morn again
Trembles in the sparkling main,
Shall my fervent prayer be—
Light of life and joy, to thee!
When the noonday sun is high,
Flaming in the arching sky—
When the swain, with toil opprest,
Seeks the shade and sinks to rest,
Then, in fancy wild and free,
I will live that hour with thee.