Stanzas to a Lady, on Leaving England
Tis done--and shivering in the gale The bark unfurls her snowy sail; And whistling o'er the bending mast, Loud sings on high the fresh'ning blast;...
This is a poetry & verse.
Tis done--and shivering in the gale The bark unfurls her snowy sail; And whistling o'er the bending mast, Loud sings on high the fresh'ning blast; And I must from this land be gone, Because I cannot love but one. But could I be what I have been, And could I see what I have seen-- Could I repose upon the breast Which once my warmest wishes blest-- I should not seek another zone, Because I cannot love but one.…
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