Farewell, farewell!—the brightest day must close:
And the sweet vision of my recent hours
Will fade too soon. Ah! will it not return?
The clouds that evening gathered o’er our heads
Stayed not till morn; but leave the sun more bright.
The early mist, that veiled yon green hill-side,
Has risen, and floated on the air awhile,
Then slowly vanished, and you see again
The glades, where sings the bird and bounds the deer.
And may not absence hide thee, for a time,
Then give thee fairer back? Oh! I will trust.
And as beyond the clouds I know the sun
Shines, though I see him not, my spirit’s eye
Thy form shall trace, though absent, and thy soul,
E’en when thou know’st it not, shall soft respond
To some kind thought of mine. Thus, though forever
Thy absence last, we shall not wholly part.
But now, awhile, farewell! and may each boon,
By Heav’n most prized, fall richly to thy lot.
Be every thought replete with quiet joy,
And every purpose overruled for good.
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