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Too much of this, and would not see another Thus daily die. If it be so with thee, My gentle Zamor, speak. Behold, our bark Yet, with her white sails catching sunset's glow, Lies within signal reach. If it be thus, Then fare thee well, farewell thou brave and true, And generous friend! How often is our path Crossed by some being whose bright spirit sheds A passing gladness o'er it, but whose course Leads down another current, never more To blend with ours! Yet far within our souls, Amidst the rushing of the busy world, Dwells many a secret thought, which lingers yet Around that image. And e'en so, kind Zamor, Shalt thou be long remembered!

Zamor.By the fame Of my brave sire, whose deeds the warrior tribes Tell round the desert's watchfire, at the hour Of silence, and of coolness, and of stars, I will not leave thee! 'Twas in such an hour