614 ANNUAL REGISTER, 1818. 



3. 



AS slow our ship her foamy track 



Against the wind was cleaving, 

 Her trembling pennant still look'd back 



To that dear isle 'twas leaving. 

 So loth we part from all we love, 



From all the links that bind us ; 

 So turn our hearts, where'er we rove, 



To those we 've left behind us. 



When round the bowl of vanish'd years 



We talk with joyous seeming, 

 And smiles that might as well be tears, 



So faint, so sad their beaming ; 

 When mem'ry brings us back again 



Each early tie that twin'd us ; 

 Oh ! sweet's the cup that circles then 



To those we 've left behind us. 



And when in other climes we meet 



Some isle, or vale enchanting, 

 WHiere all looks flow'ry, wild and sweet, 



And nought but love is wanting; 

 We think how great had been our bliss, 



If heav'n had but assigned us 

 To live and die in scenes like this. 



With some we 've left behind us. 



As trav'llers oft look back at eve 



When eastward darkly going, 

 To gaze upon that light they leave 



Still faint behind them glowing, — 

 So, when the close of pleasure's day 



To gloom hath near consign'd us, 

 We turn to catch one fading ray. 



Of joy that's left behind us. 



WHENE'ER 



