Far from my long lov’d friends and native home,
And far, my Delia! ah, too far from thee!
No more thy pleasing converse cheers my soul,
And smooths my passage through life’s rugged way;
Thy smiles no more my wonted cares controul,
And give new glories to the golden day.
No more with thee I hail the approach of dawn,
And hand in hand the varied landscape rove;
Where fostering gales invest the dew-bright lawn,
Unlock the garden’s sweets, and fan the grove.