AS SLOW OUR SHIP

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Andrew Lang
As slow our ship her foamy track Against the wind was cleaving, Her trembling pennant still looked back To that dear isle ’twas leaving. So loth we part from all we love, From all the links that bind us; So turn our hearts, where’er we rove, To those we’ve left behind us!
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When, round the bowl, of vanished years We talk, with joyous seeming,— With smiles, that might as well be tears So faint, so sad their beaming; While memory brings us back again Each early tie that twined us, Oh, sweet’s the cup that circles then To those we’ve left behind us!
And when, in other climes, we meet Some isle or vale enchanting, Where all looks flowery, wild, and sweet, And nought but love is wanting; We think how great had been our bliss, If Heaven had but assigned us To live and die in scenes like this, With some we’ve left behind us!
As travellers oft look back, at eve, When eastward darkly going, To gaze upon that light they leave Still faint behind them glowing,— So, when the close of pleasure’s day To gloom hath near consigned us, We turn to catch one fading ray Of joy that’s left behind us.
T. Moore.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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