Farewell to Arcady
With sombre mien, the Evening grayComes nagging at the heels of Day,And driven faster and still fasterBefore the dusky-mantled Master,The light fades from her fearful eyes,She hastens, stumbles, falls, and dies.
Beside me Amaryllis weeps;The swelling tears obscure the deepsOf her dark eyes, as, mistily,The rushing rain conceals the sea.Here, lay my tuneless reed away,—I have no heart to tempt a lay.
I scent the perfume of the roseWhich by my crystal fountain grows.In this sad time, are roses blowing?And thou, my fountain, art thou flowing,
While I who watched thy waters springAm all too sad to smile or sing?Nay, give me back my pipe again,It yet shall breathe this single strain:Farewell to Arcady!