Blends with the murmur of the main.
THE BARD’S FAREWELL.
“Thou setting moon! when next thy rays
Are trembling on the shadowy deep,
The land, now fading from thy gaze,
These eyes in vain shall weep;
And wander o’er the lonely sea,
And fix their tearful glance on thee—
On thee! whose light so softly gleams
Through the green oaks that fringe my native streams.