Sonnet XVI: Delusive Hope
Delusive Hope! more transient than the ray
That leads pale twilight to her dusky bed,
O'er woodland glen, or breezy mountain's head,
Ling'ring to catch the parting sigh of day.
Hence with thy visionary charms, away!
Nor o'er my path the flow'rs of fancy spread;
Thy airy dreams on peaceful pillows shed,
And weave for thoughtless brows, a garland gay.
Farewell low vallies; dizzy cliffs, farewell!
Small vagrant rills that murmur as ye flow:
Dark bosom'd labyrinth and thorny dell;
The task be mine all pleasures to forego;
To hide, where meditation loves to dwell,
And feed my soul, with luxury of woe!
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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Song. The Farewell
Bid me sigh it in thine ear,
I may scarce its utterance tell;
Bid me hide it in a tear,
'Tis the word—farewell! farewell!
When away you may forget
O'er the parting scene to dwell,
I will treasure fondly yet
The sad word—farewell! farewell!
Still its knell is on mine ear,
Still do sighs my bosom swell,
Still unbidden flows the tear
O'er that word—farewell! farewell!
Go—forget—when all is past,
Love which then may lose its spell,
Yet a love like mine must last
Beyond the word—farewell! farewell!
poem by Edward Henry Bickersteth
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Sea Song of the Exiles
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, white cot whence the ripe grapes fall,
Gold blooms that bask on the mossy wall!
Dear land, farewell!
Hill, plain, and dell!
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Farewell, betrothed, with the pure, pale brow;
'Neath sombre heaven dark billows we plough.
Dear land, farewell!
In thee our loves dwell;
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Dear land, farewell!
Waves surge and swell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
Our eyes, whose tears all brightness blot,
Leave the dark wave for a darker lot!
Dear land, farewell!
In our heart's a knell.
Dear land, farewell, --
Blue sky!
poem by Victor Hugo
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The Emigrant
FAREWELL, ah, happy shades! ah, scenes belov'd,
Of infant sports and bright unclouded hours!
Where oft in childhood's happy days I rov'd,
Thro' forest-walks, and wild secluded bow'rs!
Far from your woods, and sweet romantic glades,
A wand'ring emigrant I'm doom'd to roam,
Yet oft will memory, ling'ring in your shades,
Recal the dear, regretted charms of home!
Her magic pencil oft shall fondly trace
The mournful pictures of departed joy;
To ev'ry image give a pensive grace,
Which time may soften—but can ne'er destroy.
Ah! scenes belov'd! again delightful spring
In vernal beauty decks your smiling vales;
With balmy odour scents the zephyr's wing,
And wafts from heav'n the soft Favonian gales.
With transport once, to hail her blest return,
I tun'd my artless reed, my numbers wild,
Then all was new in life's bewitching morn,
And hope—ah, fair enchantress! gaily smil'd.
Oh! then, what airy visions of delight,
Beguil'd my youthful heart in ev'ry grove;
Deluding fancy pictur'd to my sight
The fairy-land of happiness and love!
But now, for me in vain the flow'rs expand,
And leaves unfolding, dress the woods anew;
I go, a wanderer, to some distant land,
And bid my native hills—a last adieu!
Farewell the hermit-cell, the lov'd retreat,
The cottage mantled o'er with clustering vine;
Where mild content had found a tranquil seat,
And peace and calm domestic joys were mine.
Dear, lovely scenes! how oft, at dawn of day,
My pipe has wak'd your mountain-echoes sound;
How oft at evening's hour I lov'd to stray,
Beside the river's bank, with osiers crown'd.
Ye woodland-streams, ye peaceful, happy shades,
Oft on your charms will pensive memory dwell;
Ah, native vales! ah, sweet embow'ring glades,
Scenes of my early youth!—a last farewell!
poem by Felicia Dorothea Hemans
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Stanzas to a Friend
AH! think no more that Life's delusive joys,
Can charm my thoughts from FRIENDSHIP'S dearer claim;
Or wound a heart, that scarce a wish employs,
For age to censure, or discretion blame.
Tir'd of the world, my weary mind recoils
From splendid scenes, and transitory joys;
From fell Ambition's false and fruitless toils,
From hope that flatters, and from bliss that cloys.
With THEE, above the taunts of empty pride,
The rigid frowns to youthful error given;
Content in solitude my griefs I'll hide,
Thy voice my counsellorthy smiles my Heaven.
With thee I'll hail the morn's returning ray,
Or climb the dewy mountain bleak and cold;
On the smooth lake observe the sun-beams play,
Or mark the infant flow'rs their buds unfold.
Pleas'd will I watch the glitt'ring queen of Night
Spread her white mantle o'er the face of Heaven;
And from thy converse snatch the pure delight,
By truth sublime to MENTAL feeling given.
And as the varying seasons glide away,
This moral lesson shall my bosom learn,
How TIME steals on, while blissful hours decay
Like fleeting shadows;NEVER to return.
And when I see thy warm unspotted mind,
Torn with the wound of broken FRIENDSHIP'S dart;
When sickness chills thy breast with pangs unkind,
Or ruthless sorrow preys upon thy heart;
The task be MINE to soothe thee to repose,
To check the sigh, and wipe the trickling tear,
Or with soft SYMPATHY to share thy woes;
O, proudest rapture of the soul sincere !
And ye who flutter thro' the vacant hour,
Where tasteless Apathy's empoison'd wand
Arrests the vagrant sense with numbing pow'r,
While vanquish'd REASON bows at her command.
O say, what bliss can transient Life bestow,
What balm so grateful to the social mind,
As FRIENDSHIP'S voicewhere gentle precepts flow
From the blest source of sentiment refin'd?
When FATE'S stern hand shall close my weeping eye,
And seal, at length, my wand'ring spirit's doom;
Oh! may kind FRIENDSHIP catch my parting sigh,
And cheer with HOPE the terrors of the TOMB.
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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Song Of Parting
Say farewell, and let me go;
Shatter every vow!
All the future can bestow
Will be welcome now!
And if this fair hand I touch
I have worshipped overmuch,
It was my mistake--and so,
Say farewell, and let me go.
Say farewell, and let me go:
Murmur no regret,
Stay your tear-drops ere they flow--
Do not waste them yet!
They might pour as pours the rain,
And not wash away the pain:
I have tried them and I know.--
Say farewell, and let me go.
Say farewell, and let me go:
Think me not untrue--
True as truth is, even so
I am true to you!
If the ghost of love may stay
Where my fond heart dies to-day,
I am with you alway--so,
Say farewell, and let me go.
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Maternal Hope
Lo! at the couch where infant beauty sleeps,
Her silent watch the mournful mother keeps:
She, while the lovely babe unconscious lies,
Smiles on her slumb'ring child with pensive eyes,
And weaves a song of melancholy joy:-
'Sleep, image of thy father! - sleep, my boy!
No ling'ring hour of sorrow shall be thine,
No sigh that rends thy father's heart and mine.
Bright, as his manly sire, the son shall be,
In form and soul; but, ah! more blest than he!
Thy fame, thy worth, thy filial love, at last,
Shall soothe his aching heart for all the past;
With many a smile my solitude repay,
And chase the world's ungenerous scorn away.
'And say, when summon'd from the world and thee
I lay my head beneath the willow-tree,
And soothe may parted spirit ling'ring near?
Oh! wilt thou come at evening hour, to shed
The tears of mem'ry o'er my narrow bed;
With aching temples on thy hand reclined,
Muse on the last 'farewell!' I leave behind,
Breathe a deep sigh to winds that murmur low,
And think on all my love, and all my woe?'
So speaks affection, ere the infant eye
Can look regard, or brighten in reply;
But, when the cherub lip hath learn'd to claim
A mother's ear by that endearing name, -
Soon as the playful innocent can prove
A tear of pity, or a smile of love,
Or cons his murmuring task beneath her care,
Or lisps with holy look his evening prayer,
Or gazing, mutely pensive, sits to hear
The mournful ballad warbled in his ear, -
How fondly looks admiring hope the while,
At every artless tear, and every smile!
How glows the joyous parent to descry
A guileless bosom, true to sympathy!
poem by Thomas Campbell
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Ballad IV
Farewell, my lady dear and dread,
Farewell, of all sovereign and queen,
Farewell, perfect and sacred head,
Farewell, who dost all honour mean,
Farewell, true heart, loyal and clean,
Farewell, best flower the world doth bear,
Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair !
Farewell, O wise, that no ill said,
Farewell, river that made life green,
Farewell, in whom fame harboured,
Farewell, voice that all ears could win,
Farewell, solace of all my teen,
Farewell, whose grace is wide as air,
Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair !
Farewell, soft look that through me sped,
Farewell, more fair than Helen queen,
Farewell, body and sweet soul wed,
Farewell, thou most gracious demesne,
Farewell, pole-star, joyous and keen,
Farewell, fountain of valour rare,
Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair !
Farewell, Princess of noblest mien,
Farewell, thou aweing smile serene,
Farewell, without fault, sin's despair,
Farewell, yet not farewell, O white and fair !
poem by Christine de Pizan
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Sonnet XIX: Farewell, Ye Coral Caves
Farewell, ye coral caves, ye pearly sands,
Ye waving woods that crown yon lofty steep;
Farewell, ye Nereides of the glitt'ring deep,
Ye mountain tribes, ye fawns, ye sylvan bands:
On the bleak rock your frantic minstrel stands,
Each task forgot, save that, to sigh and weep;
In vain the strings her burning fingers sweep,
No more her touch, the Grecian Lyre commands!
In Circe's cave my faithless Phaon's laid,
Her daemons dress his brow with opiate flow'rs;
Or, loit'ring in the brown pomgranate shade,
Beguile with am'rous strains the fateful hours;
While Sappho's lips, to paly ashes fade,
And sorrow's cank'ring worm her heart devours!
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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TIS come!--the last pale ev'ning-close
'TIS come!--the last pale ev'ning-close
Whose shade shall sink around me here;
And unto me its deep repose,
Brings many a wildly-gushing tear.
Nay, let me dash the drops away,
Which thus, in idle sorrow shed,
A soul un nerv'd, unstrung, betray ,--
Which droops--nor will be comforted.
My quiet home, farewell!--I go
Forth to the cold bleak world again,
A wanderer mid its scenes of woe,
To seek for sheltering peace in vain.
Oh! long my heart will warmly cling
To thee, as to some hallow'd spot,
Where falshood's deadly withering,
And life's stern storms were all forgot.
And some short moments wing'd with bliss,
Pass'd o'er my spirit, like a tone
Of the air-harp, when night-winds kiss
Its chords, to music wild and lone.
My cherish'd home a long farewell!
The pangs which on my bosom press,
As on that word I ling'ring dwell
Are rous'd to keenest wretchedness!
poem by Eliza Acton
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Elegy to the Memory of Richard Boyle, Esq.
NEAR yon bleak mountain's dizzy height,
That hangs o'er AVON's silent wave;
By the pale Crescent's glimm'ring light,
I sought LORENZO's lonely grave.
O'er the long grass the silv'ry dew,
Soft Twilight's tears spontaneous shone;
And the dank bough of baneful yew
Supply'd the place of sculptured stone.
Oft, as my trembling steps drew near,
The aëry voice of FANCY gave
The plaint of GENIUS to mine ear,
That, lingering, murmur'd on his grave.
"Cold is that heart, where honour glow'd,
And Friendship's flame sublimely shone,
And clos'd that eye where Pity flow'd,
For ev'ry suff'ring but HIS OWN.
"That form where youth and grace conspir'd,
To captivate admiring eyes,
No more belov'd, no more admir'd,
A torpid mass neglected lies.
"Mute is the music of that tongue,
Once tuneful as the voice of love,
When ORPHEUS, by his magic song,
Taught trees, and flinty rocks to move.
"Oft shall the pensive MUSE be found,
Sprinkling with flow'rs his mould'ring clay;
While soft-eyed SORROW wand'ring round,
Shall pluck intruding weeds away."
Sad victim of the sordid mind,
That doom'd THEE to an early grave;
Ne'er shall HER breast that pity find,
Which thy forgiveness nobly gave!
Thou, who, when SORROW'S icy hand
Forbad the healthsome pulse to flow,
Obedient to HER stern command,
With meek submission bow'd thee low!
And when thy faded cheek proclaim'd
The thorn that rankled in thy breast,
Thy steady soul that pride maintain'd,
Which marks the godlike mind distress'd!
Nor was thy mental strength subdu'd,
When HOPE's last ling'ring shadows fled,
Unchang'd, thy dauntless spirit view'd
The dreary confines of the dead!
And when thy penetrating mind,
Life's thorny maze presum'd to scan,
In ev'ry path condemn'd to find
"The low ingratitude of man."
Indignant would'st thou turn away,
And smiling raise thy languid eye,
And oft thy feeble voice would say,
"TO ME 'TIS HAPPINESS TO DIE."
And tho' thy FRIEND, I with skilful art,
To heal thy woes, each balm apply'd;
Tho' the fine feelings of his heart,
Nor cost nor studious care deny'd!
He saw the fatal hour draw near,
He saw THEE fading to the grave;
He gave his last kind gift, A TEAR,
And mourn'd the worth he could not save.
Nor could the ruthless breath of FATE
Snatch from thy grave the tender sigh;
Nor a relentless monster's hate
Impede thy passage to the sky.
And tho' no kindred tears were shed,
No tribute to thy memory giv'n;
Sublime in death, thy spirit fled,
To seek its best reward IN HEAVEN!
poem by Mary Darby Robinson
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Farewell To Annabel
Where did ya go when the snow lay on the ground
What did ya do when the rain began to fall
How did it feel when I looked through your soul
When was the last time you wanted my love
How many nights did you cry your dreams to sleep
Why did you hide what you knew would not stay hidden
How could you put yourself through like you did
Im not the kind that would hold you that way
Drop me a line if ya wake up feelin bad
Im still a friend and Id like to hear from you
Where does it say love should last forever
When was the last time I told that to you
Farewell to annabel, farewell
Farewell to annabel, farewell
Farewell to annabel, fare thee well
Farewell to annabel, farewell
song performed by by Gordon Lightfoot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Stay Away and Go Away Pains!
stay away from me
all earthly
joys;
Evenly joy is mine.
Break tender ties and Knots;
Eternal joy is mine.
Dark and the wilderness,
Dove can fear and hide in its nest
Earth has no resting place than own heart,
God alone can bless;
Now bliss is mine. Tempting desires not in my mind
my soul sail away;
moral king Is mine.
Here would I ever stay;
infinite peace is mine.
Toys and things made of clay,
Born and soon worn out
Solid but for a few day,
Life melts and boils some day
only flow but can't burn,
Pass from my heart away;
Guardian is mine.
Farewell, ye dreams of day n night;
Humble Soul of mine.
Lost in this dawning
bright;
Source of all light is mine.
All that my soul has tried
Left but a dismal void;
Lord has satisfied;
Lord of lords is mine.
Farewell, mortal nature;
Eternal love is mine.
Welcome, eternal Truth;
Joy and smile is mine.
Welcome, O Loved and my Beloved, Welcome, sweet events of test,
Welcome, sweet nectar in my breast;
all that sweetness is mine.
poem by Ramdas Bhandarkar
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Ode to Evening
If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song,
May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear,
Like thy own solemn springs,
Thy springs and dying gales,
O nymph reserv'd, while now the bright-hair'd sun
Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts,
With brede ethereal wove,
O'erhang his wavy bed:
Now air is hush'd, save where the weak-ey'd bat,
With short shrill shriek, flits by on leathern wing,
Or where the beetle winds
His small but sullen horn,
As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path,
Against the pilgrim borne in heedless hum:
Now teach me, maid compos'd,
To breathe some soften'd strain,
Whose numbers stealing thro' thy dark'ning vale
May not unseemly with its stillness suit,
As musing slow, I hail
Thy genial lov'd return!
For when thy folding-star arising shows
His paly circlet, at his warning lamp
The fragrant Hours, and elves
Who slept in flow'rs the day,
And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge,
And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and, lovelier still,
The pensive Pleasures sweet,
Prepare thy shadowy car.
Then lead, calm vot'ress, where some sheety lake
Cheers the lone heath, or some time-hallow'd pile,
Or upland fallows grey
Reflect its last cool gleam.
But when chill blust'ring winds, or driving rain,
Forbid my willing feet, be mine the hut
That from the mountain's side
Views wilds, and swelling floods,
And hamlets brown, and dim-discover'd spires,
And hears their simple bell, and marks o'er all
Thy dewy fingers draw
The gradual dusky veil.
While Spring shall pour his show'rs, as oft he wont,
And bathe thy breathing tresses, meekest Eve;
While Summer loves to sport
Beneath thy ling'ring light;
While sallow Autumn fills thy lap with leaves;
Or Winter, yelling thro' the troublous air,
Affrights thy shrinking train,
And rudely rends thy robes;
So long, sure-found beneath the sylvan shed,
Shall Fancy, Friendship, Science, rose-lipp'd Health,
Thy gentlest influence own,
And hymn thy fav'rite name!
poem by William Taylor Collins
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I Say Farewell
I Say Farewell
By Renee'
I say farewell
To all my bad days
I say farewell
To the darkness that enveloped me
I say farewell
To my lost love
I say farewell
To the hurt you caused me
I say farewell
To our shared dreams
I say farewell
No more just you.
I say hello
To new friends
I say Hello
To a new day
I say hello
To the rest of my life.
Although it will take time
I say hello
To a new me
Although I still cry a tear for you
I say farewell
To Anne
I say hello to feature relationships.
poem by Renee' Stretch
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Farewell my friend
I could easily foretell
You had something to tell
As you dropped a stinking bombshell
Farewell, farewell my friend
With words I spell
It all out in a nutshell
Farewell, farewell my friend
What else can I say?
When you take off today for good
Farewell I say with a broken mood
Farewell there goes my wedding bell
Farewell there goes your innocent smell
Farewell there goes our fun in and out of hotels
Farewell I hope that life treats you well
Farewell in your ventures
Our spent time is my treasure
Your heart must wander to where it belongs
Friend, I only urge you to be strong
With love you can simply do no wrong
I say it with these words tipping off my tongue
Farewell, farewell my friend
I am a great believer
Farewell is not forever
I say not goodbye
I do not wish to sit and cry
Farewell, farewell my friend
What else can I say?
You weren’t meant to stay
I will do nothing to detain
You from flying on that plane
Farewell, farewell my friend
I say with pain
Farewell, farewell my friend
In sunshine or in rain
One day, one day
I know we’ll see again
Farewell, farewell my friend
I cannot stand and pretend
That a part me
With you, would still like to be!
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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My Highland Lassie, O
Nae gentle dames, tho' e'er sae fair,
Shall ever be my muse's care;
Their titles a' are empty show;
Gie me my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen sae bushy, O,
Aboon the plain sae rushy, O,
I sit me down wi' right good will,
To sing my Highland Lassie, O.
Oh, were yon hills and valleys mine,
Yon palace and yon gardens fine!
The world then the love should know
I bear my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
But fickle fortune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the raging sea;
But while my crimson currents flow
I'll love my highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
Altho' thro' foreign climes I range,
I know her heart will never change,
For her bosom burns with honor's glow,
My faithful highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
For her I'll dare the billows' roar,
For her I'll trace a distant shore,
That Indian wealth may lustre throw
Around my Highland Lassie, O.
Within the glen...
She has my heart, she has my hand,
By sacred troth and honor's band!
Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,
I'm thine, my highland Lassie, O.
Farewell the glen sae bushy, O!
Farewell the plain sae rushy, O!
To other lands I now must go,
To sing my Highland Lassie, O!
poem by Robert Burns
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Farewell To Frances
Farewell! if ne'er I see thee more,
Though distant calls my flight impel,
I shall not less thy grace adore,
So friend, forever fare thee well.
Farewell! forever, did I say?
What, never more thy face to see?
Then take the last fond look to-day,
And still to-morrow think of me.
Farewell! alas, the tragic sound
Has many a tender bosom torn;
While desolation spread around,
Deserted friendship left to mourn.
Farewell! awakes the sleeping tear,
The dormant rill from sorrow's eye,
Express'd from one by nature dear,
Whose bosom heaves the latent sigh.
Farewell! is but departure's tale,
When fond association ends,
And fate expands her lofty sail,
To show the distant flight of friends.
Alas! and if we sure must part,
Far separated long to dwell,
I leave thee with a broken heart,
So friend, forever, fare thee well.
I leave thee, but forget thee never,
Words cannot my feeling tell,
'Fare thee well, and if forever,
Still forever fare thee well.'
poem by George Moses Horton
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Kashmiri Song
Pale hands I love beside the Shalimar,
Where are you now? Who lies beneath your spell?
Whom do you lead on Rapture's roadway, far,
Before you agonise them in farewell?
Oh, pale dispensers of my Joys and Pains,
Holding the doors of Heaven and of Hell,
How the hot blood rushed wildly through the veins
Beneath your touch, until you waved farewell.
Pale hands, pink tipped, like Lotus buds that float
On those cool waters where we used to dwell,
I would have rather felt you round my throat,
Crushing out life, than waving me farewell!
poem by Laurence Hope
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Farewell! If Ever Fondest Prayer
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer
For other's weal avail'd on high,
Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky.
Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh:
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell,
When wrung from guilt's expiring eye,
Are in that word--Farewell!--Farewell!
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
But in my breast and in my brain,
Awake the pangs that pass not by,
The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
My soul nor deigns nor dares complain
Though grief and passion there rebel;
I only know we loved in vain--
I only feel--Farewell!--Farewell!
Sonnet LXXXIV: Farewell to the Glen
Sweet stream-fed glen, why say “farewell” to thee
Who far'st so well and find'st for ever smooth
The brow of Time where man may read no ruth?
Nay, do thou rather say “farewell” to me,
Who now fare forth in bitterer fantasy
Than erst was mine where other shade might soothe
By other streams, what while in fragrant youth
The bliss of being sad made melancholy.
And yet, farewell! For better shalt thou fare
When children bathe sweet faces in thy flow
And happy lovers blend sweet shadows there
In hours to come, than when an hour ago
Thine echoes had but one man's sighs to bear
And thy trees whispered what he feared to know.
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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