31.12.2010, 12:15
A FAREWELL TO THE ISLE OF WIGHT.
Silent I gazed upon our foaming wake,
And silent on the Island hills I gazed,
As up the ebbing stream we bore, to make
Our harbour, while the West athwart us blazed.
Keen were my thoughts : my memory wander'd back
To those fair shores—the Needles and the Downs —
The happy woodlands and the little towns —
For every day a new and pleasant track ;
How grieved was I those social walks to lose.
Those friendly hands ! The shadow of our mast
And sail ran sadly o'er the fruitless ooze
At sunset, as between the banks we pass'd
Of that tide-fallen river, speeding fast
To land, and further from those fond adieus.
Silent I gazed upon our foaming wake,
And silent on the Island hills I gazed,
As up the ebbing stream we bore, to make
Our harbour, while the West athwart us blazed.
Keen were my thoughts : my memory wander'd back
To those fair shores—the Needles and the Downs —
The happy woodlands and the little towns —
For every day a new and pleasant track ;
How grieved was I those social walks to lose.
Those friendly hands ! The shadow of our mast
And sail ran sadly o'er the fruitless ooze
At sunset, as between the banks we pass'd
Of that tide-fallen river, speeding fast
To land, and further from those fond adieus.