An Exile's Farewell
The ocean heaves around us stillWith long and measured swell,The autumn gales our canvas fill,Our ship rides smooth and well.The broad Atlantic's bed of foamStill breaks against our prow;I shed no tears at quitting home,Nor will I shed them now!
Against the bulwarks on the poopI lean, and watch the sunBehind the red horizon stoop —His race is nearly run.Those waves will never quench his light,O'er which they seem to close,To-morrow he will rise as brightAs he this morning rose.
How brightly gleams the orb of dayAcross the trackless sea!How lightly dance the waves that playLike dolphins in our lee!The restless waters seem to say,In smothered tones to me,How many thousand miles awayMy native land must be!
Speak, Ocean! is my Home the sameNow all is new to me? —The tropic sky's resplendent flame,The vast expanse of sea?Does all around her, yet unchanged,The well-known aspect wear?Oh! can the leagues that I have rangedHave made no difference there?
How vivid Recollection's handRecalls the scene once more!I see the same tall poplars standBeside the garden door;I see the bird-cage hanging still;And where my sister setThe flowers in the window-sill —Can they be living yet?
Let woman's nature cherish grief,I rarely heave a sighBefore emotion takes reliefIn listless apathy;While from my pipe the vapours curlTowards the evening sky,And 'neath my feet the billows whirlIn dull monotony!
The sky still wears the crimson streakOf Sol's departing ray,Some briny drops are on my cheek,'Tis but the salt sea spray!Then let our barque the ocean roam,Our keel the billows plough;I shed no tears at quitting home,Nor will I shed them now!
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