The fluctuating pangs of hope and fear,
Joy distant still, and Sorrow ever near.
Thus, while the pangs of thought severer grew, }
The western breezes inauspicious blew, }
Hastening the moment of our last adieu. }
The vessel parted on the falling tide,
Yet time one sacred hour to love supplied:
The night was silent, and advancing fast,
The moon o’er Thames her silver mantle cast;
Impatient Hope the midnight path explored,