The Adieu. Written Under the Impression That the Author Would Soon Die

Adieu, thou Hill! where early joy Spread roses o'er my brow; Where Science seeks each loitering boy With knowledge to endow. Adieu, my youthful friends or foes, Partners of former bliss or woes; No more through Ida's paths we stray; Soon must I share the gloomy cell, Whose ever-slumbering inmates dwell Unconscious of the day. Adieu, ye hoary Regal Fanes, Ye spires of Granta's vale, Where Learning robed in sable reigns.…