Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1834.pdf/69

Rh

OME few brief hours, my gallant bark, And we shall see the shore; My native, and my beautiful, That I will leave no more.

And gallantly the white sails swept On, on before the wind; The prow dash’d through the foam and left A sparkling line behind.

The sun look’d out through the blue sky, A gladsome summer sun;