The Departure. An Elegy.
Were I to leave no more than a good friend,
Or but to hear the summons to my end,
(Which I have long'd for) I could then with ease
Attire my grief in words, and so appease
That passion in my bosom, which outgrows
The language of strict verse or largest prose.
But here I am quite lost; writing to you,
All that I pen or think is forc'd and new.