Poems.
123
THE AUTHOR'S ADIEU TO PLYMOUTH,
Farewell to Plymouth's sea-girt shore,
Home of the Pilgrim band;
No more I'll hear the wild waves roar,
Around my "Father-land."
Home of the Pilgrim band;
No more I'll hear the wild waves roar,
Around my "Father-land."
I go, but with a sad farewell,
I gaze around me here,
While painful thoughts my bosom swell,
As the parting hour draws near.
I gaze around me here,
While painful thoughts my bosom swell,
As the parting hour draws near.
Far, far away to distant scenes,
Reluctant do I go;
While retrospection's hallowed beams,
A brighter radiance throw.
Reluctant do I go;
While retrospection's hallowed beams,
A brighter radiance throw.
It is not 'neath the sunniest skies,
That warmest hearts abound;
Where coldest winds breathe forth their sighs,
Friendship 's oft purest found.
That warmest hearts abound;
Where coldest winds breathe forth their sighs,
Friendship 's oft purest found.
And here, upon this rocky shore,
Full many a heart I've met,
With kindest feelings teeming o'er,
That I shall ne'er forget.
Full many a heart I've met,
With kindest feelings teeming o'er,
That I shall ne'er forget.
