Cofachiqui, and Other Poems/A farewell
A FAREWELL.
FAREWELL to Clarvand's ville and vale And hills of emerald hue.Let me a dirge's long, sad wail, Condense into "adieu!"'Round that dear spot, home of my youth, Each rock and brook and tree,As photographed with life and truth, In memory I see.
Each white cot like a pure pearl gleams, In settings rich half hid;The dell an emerald casket seems, The summer sky its lid.Far reaching from the wooded dell In waves of varied greenThe prairies roll and grain waves swell And flash like lances' sheen.
Upon the rocky ledges low Half hid by trailing vines,Like dark plumes o'er their brows there grow The melancholy pines.Their leafy hands in gay salute The graceful aspens tossAs zephyrs pass; all others mute Hang heavy with their gloss.
Why should I leave my place of birth And old acquaintance too,And say farewell for aye on earth To whom I've loved so true?The traitor face and selfish heart. In yon fair homes are found,Well skilled to play the double part And smile on whom they wound.
Must youth's companions be forgot? Have ties like these no worth.Is friendship but an idle thought, And are none true on earth?Trust not fair words and clasping hands, Of constant hearts ne'er dream,For hearts are shifting like the sands In dark Missouri's stream.
"Love is a gift which God has given," Says Scotia's brightest bard,"To man alone beneath the heaven"— A gift to keep and guard.If so, O God, who didst impart, Thy gift of woe retake;Give me the mountain's granite heart That tempests cannot shake;
That kiss of dew, with soft, bright eyes, Or tears of changeful rain,Or tempting smiles of sunny skies Ne'er move with joy or pain."T were better thus than like the vale, As seemeth now my heart,When gloomy clouds ride on the gale And zigzag lightnings dart;
When drear and wild the dark night lowers And beating rain-floods pour,And turbid waves sweep down the flowers That decked the banks before.Oh! why, since they were but to wound, Why were quick feelings given?Since, when heart's ties seem firmest bound, They may be rudely riven.
I shall recall in distant climes The past with fond regret,For dear to me are those old times And old acquaintance yet.What strangers e'er can fill the place Of those my boyhood knew?Where find the peer of that fair face Of one loved long and true?
Away such thoughts! my heart is dead, O'erclouded Hope's bright star;Henceforth my wandering feet shall tread In tropic lands afar,Where tremble to the earthquake's strokes The mountains of Peru,Where wave in lieu of Clarvand's oaks The palms of Otafu;
Where broad Pacific's tropic tides Embrace the island worldAnd from Mendana's mountain sides The swift cascades are hurled.Would I could find in South Sea waves Or Andes caverns deepFor my dark memories darker graves Where they might ever sleep.
But two and twenty years have cast Their shadows on my head, Yet all life's joy seems in that past So brief and dear and dead.Farewell to Clarvand's vale and ville And summer skies so blue;Each leafy glen and sparkling rill, A long, a last adieu!