144 The Canary. 



FAREWELL. 



" Thou 'rt bearing hence thy roses, 

 Glad summer, fare thee well ! 

 Thou 'rt singing thy last melodies 

 In every wood and dell. 



" But ere the golden sunset 



Of thy latest lingering day, 

 Oh ! tell me, o'er this chequered earth, 

 How hast thou passed away ? 



" Brightly, sweet summer, brightly 



Thine hours have floated by, 

 To the joyous birds of the woodland boughs, 

 The rangers of the sky. 



*' And brightly in the forests 



To the wild deer wandering free ; 

 And brightly 'mid the garden flowers 

 To the happy murmuring bee. 



" But how to human bosoms, 



With all their hopes and fears, 

 And thoughts that make their eagle-wings 

 To pierce the unborn years ? 



