A Farewell: Not Originally Written in the Author's Own Name

Sweet vale, tho' I must leave
Thy green hills and thy waters,

Nor sing again at eve,
To charm thy winsome daughters,
Yet I shall fondly think of thee,
And thy fair maids will think of me,
When I am far away.
I'll think of thee, but not as men,
Who vex their souls with thinking,

With feverish thirst, the reeky fen
Of sluggard memory drinking ;
Nor shall thy maidens fair and free
With aught of sadness think of me,
When I am far away.
The fairy lake, tho' still it seems,
Is evermore a-flowing ;
A moment ends the silvery gleams

That flash as we are rowing.
Yet that smooth lake as smooth shall flow,
And light oars flash, when gay youths row,
When I am far away.