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—adieu—America! I leave

Thy smiling land so loved by me;

Yet to depart from thee, I deeply grieve,

Enchanting Queen of the vast Western Sea.

Upon thy glittering sands, thy pearly shore,

Fall, mingling with the waves, my tears;

My eyes, with gloom funereal, wander o'er

Thy flower-clad forest depths, to me so dear.

Oh, mother! wilt thou not forget thy son,

In distant regions though he strays;

One souvenir of love—oh! only one

He asks, to animate his future lays.

To him, midst climes however far remote.

Thy scenes shall ever present be;

His lute shall never yield another note

Than those that blend with memory of thee.

Oh! wilt thou smile compassionately now

Upon this last, this parting strain?

And if, in future days, Fate may allow,

Wilt thou receive the wanderer back again?

Adieu—Queen of the bright New World! whose brows

With rays of radiant light are crowned;

Whose every lofty mountain-summit bows

But to the clouds of heaven that circle round.

Within thy realms nature is ever grand;

There, mighty hurricanes arise

To sweep, destroying, over sea and land,

Where'er their course strange and tempestuous lies.

Upon thy torrents shall I gaze no more;

Thy cataracts, whose foamy spray

Looks, rising from the rocks which they dash o'er,

Like birds of snowy plume, flutt'ring away.