Page:Poetical Remains.pdf/338



lingers my gaze where the last hues of day, On the hills of my country in loveliness sleep? Too fair is the sight for a wanderer, whose way Lies far o'er the measureless worlds of the deep! Fall, shadows of twilight! and veil the green shore, That the heart of the mighty may waver no more!

Why rise on my thoughts, ye free songs of the land, Where the harp's lofty soul on each wild wind is borne? Be hush'd, be forgotten! for ne'er shall the hand Of minstrel with melody greet my return. —No! no!—let your echoes still float on the breeze, And my heart shall be strong for the conquest of seas!