THE FAREWELL
Go, gentle muse, 'tis near the gloomy day,
Long dreaded; go, and say farewell for me;
A sad farewell to her who deigned thee, say,
For far she hastens hence. Ah, hard decree!
Tell her I feel that at the parting hour,
More than the waves will heave in tumult wild:
More than the skies will threat a gushing shower,
More than the breeze will breathe a murmur mild.
Say that her influence flies not with her form,