Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, TO THE BOSTON FRIGATE, ON LEAVING HALIFAX FOR ENGLAND, 1804, by THOMAS MOORE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

TO THE BOSTON FRIGATE, ON LEAVING HALIFAX FOR ENGLAND, 1804, by             Poem Explanation         Poet's Biography
First Line: With triumph this morning o boston! I hail
Last Line: To the boat -- I am with thee -- columbia, farewell!
Alternate Author Name(s): Little, Thomas
Subject(s): Homecoming; Sea Voyages; Ships & Shipping


WITH triumph this morning, O Boston! I hail
The stir of thy deck and the spread of thy sail,
For they tell me I soon shall be wafted, in thee,
To the flourishing isle of the brave and the free,
And that chill Nova-Scotia's unpromising strand
Is the last I shall tread of American land.
Well -- peace to the land! may the people, at length,
Know that freedom is bliss, but that honour is strength
That though man have the wings of the fetterless wind,
Of the wantonest air that the north can unbind,
Yet if health do not sweeten the blast with her bloom,
Nor virtue's aroma its pathway perfume,
Unblest is the freedom and dreary the flight,
That but wanders to ruin and wantons to blight!

Farewell to the few I have left with regret.
May they sometimes recall, what I cannot forget,
That communion of heart and that parley of soul,
Which has lengthen'd our nights and illumined our bowl,
When they've ask'd me the manners, the mind, or the mien
Of some bard I had known or some chief I had seen,
Whose glory, though distant, they long had adored,
Whose name often hallow'd the juice of their board!
And still as, with sympathy humble but true,
I told them each luminous trait that I knew,
They have listen'd and sigh'd that the powerful stream
Of America's empire should pass like a dream,
Without leaving one fragment of genius, to say
How sublime was the tide which had vanish'd away!
Farewell to the few -- though we never may meet
On this planet again, it is soothing and sweet
To think that, whenever my song or my name
Shall recur to their ear, they'll recall me the same
I have been to them now, young, unthoughtful and blest,
Ere hope had deceived me or sorrow depress'd!

But, Douglas! while thus I endear to my mind
The elect of the land we shall soon leave behind,
I can read in the weather-wise glance of thine eye,
As it follows the rack flitting over the sky,
That the faint coming breeze will be fair for our flight,
And shall steal us away, ere the falling of night.
Dear Douglas! thou knowest, with thee by my side,
With thy friendship to soothe me, thy courage to guide,
There is not a bleak isle in those summerless seas,
Where the day comes in darkness, or shines but to freeze,
Not a tract of the line, not a barbarous shore,
That I could not with patience, with pleasure explore!
Oh! think then how happy I follow thee now,
When hope smooths the billowy path of our prow,
And each prosperous sigh of the west-springing wind
Takes me nearer the home where my heart is enshrined;
Where the smile of a father shall meet me again,
And the tears of a mother turn bliss into pain!
Where the kind voice of sisters shall steal to my heart,
And ask it, in sighs, how we ever could part! --

But see! -- the bent topsails are ready to swell --
To the boat -- I am with thee -- Columbia, farewell!





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