The Rover's Farewell to His Mistress Miss Susannah Strickland

[369]

Away! -- away! -- o'er the sparkling tide,

In the light of hope shall our vessel glide;

The signal is given by the fairest hand

That ever waved bark from its native land.

By the light of those eyes, so coyly hid     5

Beneath the dark fringe of each snowy lid,

I swear, that my love, like the waves at sea,

Shall flow on rejoicing eternally!

When the tempest gathers, and winds are high,

And the billows are raging tumultuously,     10

Thy signal shall beam o'er the foaming track

Of the pathless waters to guide me back!