A LAPLANDER'S FAREWELL TO THE SETTING SUN.
(For the Mirror.)
Adieu thou beauteous orb, adieu,
Thy fading light scarce meets my view,
Thy golden tints reflected still
Beam mildly on my native hill:
Thou goest in other lands to shine,
Hail'd and expected by a numerous line,
Whilst many days and many months must pass