Behold the hour, the boat arrive; Thou goest, the darling of my heart; Sever'd from thee, can I survive, But Fate has will'd and we must part. I'll often greet the surging swell, Yon distant Isle will often hail: "E'en here I took the last farewell; There, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail." Along the solitary shore, While flitting sea-fowl round me cry, Across the rolling, dashing roar, I'll westward turn my wistful eye: "Happy thou Indian grove," I'll say, "Where now my Nancy's path may be! While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray, O tell me, does she muse on me!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BURIAL OF MOSES by CECIL FRANCES ALEXANDER MARIA WENTWORTH by THOMAS CAREW WHEN I PERUSE THE CONQUER'D FAME by WALT WHITMAN THE TENT ON THE BEACH: 3. THE GRAVE BY THE LAKE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FRAGMENTS INTENDED FOR DEATH'S JEST-BOOK: COUNTENANCE FOREBODING EVIL by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES SKETCHES OF THE TEXAS PRAIRIE: 'APRIL RAINS' by GEORGE BOND SONNET: 205 by LUIS DE CAMOENS THE POET'S NEW YEAR'S GIFT TO MRS. THROCKMORTON by WILLIAM COWPER |