Farewell.
By Thomas Frederick Young
Farewell! and know, where'er I roam,
My heart still turns to thee,
From spacious halls, or trackless woods,
Or on the foaming sea.
Farewell, my friend! oh, could I say,
My love, my own, to you,
My outlook on this dreary world
Would have a brighter hue.
But duty calls, and I must go,
E'en now, with outstretch'd hand,
I take a sad, sad leave of thee,
To dwell in distant land.
For thy sweet sake I'll onward toil,
In earnest, patient strife.
Content, if thou shalt know I live
An earnest, useful life.
And if, in future years thou'rt free,
And none has gain'd thy heart,
Oh, darling, wilt thou come to me,
And we shall never part.
My shatter'd life will then be sweet,
My spirit shall rejoice,
And weariness forsake my frame,
At thy dear, loving voice.
Farewell! farewell! and oh, the words
Dwell on my falt'ring tongue;
Oh, sad, despairing accents now,
That from my lips are wrung.
O, God, look down in gracious love,
And, for my pray'rs and tears,
Oh! guide and bless that gentle maid,
Through all the coming years.
And, if on earth we meet no more,
Grant, in thy boundless love,
That I till death may faithful be,
And meet with her above.