Then fare thee well! an exile now,
Without a friend or home;
With anguish written on my brow
About the world I roam;
For all my dreams of bliss are o’er—
Fate bade them all depart—
And I must leave my native shore
In brokenness of heart.
Then fare thee well! an exile now,
Without a friend or home;
With anguish written on my brow
About the world I roam;
For all my dreams of bliss are o’er—
Fate bade them all depart—
And I must leave my native shore
In brokenness of heart.