I have left the sweet scenes where I knelt at thy shrine,
O Learning! thy wreath with my name to entwine.
Adieu to the scenes where, when study was o'er,
And the toil of the mind was remembered no more;
I roamed o'er the mountains, forgetful, afar,
'Neath the light of the beautiful Evening Star.
Like the light of that star—like a splendor on high—
Like a Heavenly Dream that was born in the sky—
Bright Poesy burst on my pathway even there,
And a rainbow of Beauty encircled the air.