I call thy name—I call in vain:
The breeze is blowing from the main,
And mocks me waiting on the strand.
I see the mighty rivers roll
To plunge, tumultuous, in the sea;
So all my thoughts flow on to thee,
And merge together in their goal.
But thou hast uttered ‘Fare thee well;’
And I must bid a last adieu,
Nor let the aching heart pursue