I cease, and bid farewell to who hath swayed,
This tribute’s mite of unmelodious verse;
With many a billow my bark’s idly play’d,
My thoughts enamoured but of thee, their hearse;
And think not, though life drags a tedious chain,
And all it offers, shows on trial nought,
Believe not, I will sorrow, or complain;
Hast thou not stored all summer in my thought?
And, watching the bright heavens, or the glad ocean,
I’ll think thou look’st, and they repeat thy smile;
Nor shall life’s utmost favour of commotion
Bid homage spurn my Sovereign from love’s isle:
To live in mortal’s mouths, be others’ aim;
To dwell within thy heart, my only claim.
HERTFORD:
PRINTED BY STEPHEN AUSTIN.