To S.L.F.
Dublin Core
Title
To S.L.F.
Description
Farewell! my dear friend, but I leave you with sorrow,
And regret pains my breast that we ever must part;
For in youth I look'd forward with hope to the morrow,
That should give and bind to me a soul without art.
I found thee congenial, my heart hail'd the treasure,
That would solace its griefs in its woes ever share,
That would still be the same, in the bowers of pleasure,
'Mid the dark scenes of life, as its brightest and fair.
How hard then to part with the boon of kind Heaven,
Be remov'd far away from the friend we hold dear;
And to feel, and to know, that perhaps it is given;
No more to enjoy this communion sincere.
Adieu! but I'll think of you oft with emotion,
While musing at eve as the moon sweetly gleams;
And the hour, and the scene shall awake such devotion,
As erst when we rev'd by its silvery beams.
And regret pains my breast that we ever must part;
For in youth I look'd forward with hope to the morrow,
That should give and bind to me a soul without art.
I found thee congenial, my heart hail'd the treasure,
That would solace its griefs in its woes ever share,
That would still be the same, in the bowers of pleasure,
'Mid the dark scenes of life, as its brightest and fair.
How hard then to part with the boon of kind Heaven,
Be remov'd far away from the friend we hold dear;
And to feel, and to know, that perhaps it is given;
No more to enjoy this communion sincere.
Adieu! but I'll think of you oft with emotion,
While musing at eve as the moon sweetly gleams;
And the hour, and the scene shall awake such devotion,
As erst when we rev'd by its silvery beams.
Creator
Arion
Source
1:51, p. 202
Date
1828.03.14
Collection
Citation
Arion, “To S.L.F.,” Periodical Poets, accessed May 4, 2024, https://periodicalpoets.com/items/show/122.
Comments