The while we linger on the coast,

My truant fancy homeward flies,

And when the view is almost lost,

Unmanly tears bedew my eyes—

And oft forgetful do I stand,

Nor crew, nor ship, nor ocean see;

And often does my heart demand,

If friends belov'd thus think on me!

And when to England bound once more,

I shall with fond impatience burn,

Will not some others on the shore

As fondly look for my return!

O! let me of your kindness hear!

Repeat the strain as I depart!

It swells like music on my ear,

It falls like balm upon my heart.