Farewell!—Those free untired limbs full many a mile must roam,
To reach the chill and wintry clime that clouds the stranger’s home;
Some other hand, less kind, must now thy corn and bed prepare:
That silky mane I braided once, must be another’s care.
The morning sun shall dawn again—but never more with thee
Shall I gallop o’er the desert paths where we were wont to be—
Evening shall darken on the earth; and o’er the sandy plain,
Some other steed, with slower pace, shall bear me home again.
Yes, thou must go; the wild, free breeze, the brilliant sun and sky,
Thy master’s home, from all of these my exiled one must fly;