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Slowly, sadly, heavy change is falling O'er the sweetness of the voice within; Yet its tones, on restless manhood calling, Urge the hunter still to chase, to win: Come away!

Come away!—the heart, at last forsaken, Smile by smile, hath prov'd each hope untrue; Yet a breath can still those words awaken, Tho' to other shores far hence they woo: Come away!

In the light leaves, in the reed's faint sighing, In the low sweet sounds of early spring, Still their music wanders—till the dying Hears them pass, as on a spirit's wing: Come away!