Farewell! farewell! departing sun!
Thy disk is dim, thy course is run;
Long hast thou lit our land of flowers,--
Now, night must veil our hallow'd bowers.
Farewell bright sun! farewell sweet day!
We mourn not that ye glide away,
Since ev'ry fleeting hour doth bless
Where days and dreams are numberless.
Farewell bright sun! thou'lt wander forth
From hence, to east, and south, and north,
Till, weary of man's guilt and pain,
Thoul't turn thee to _our_ land again.
Farewell sweet day! our songs shall hail
Thine earliest dawn so pure, and pale,--
For shadowy night ere long must, cease
To veil the pleasant Land of Peace.