Ah! she shone with a brilliance more dazzling and strong,
Than e'er to a child of the earth could belong;
And her pinions that waved through the rose-scented air,
Had a tint that was brighter than thought can declare.
Yet adieu to thee, Emory,—thy scenes I regret;
In a far distant scene, I may think of them yet;
Fond Fancy may roam o'er thy mountains again,
And love them as freshly and warmly as then.
Yet, the tears gush unbidden, when breathing adieu,—
With the change of our years, our hearts are changed too!