And still though tears obstruct our sight,
We lingering look a last farewell.--

O'er fields, through which we us'd to run,
And spend the hours in childish play,
O'er shades where, when our race was done,
Reposing on my breast you lay,

Whilst I, admiring, too remiss,
Forgot to scare the hovering flies,
Yet envied every fly the kiss,
It dar'd to give your slumbering eyes.

See still the little painted _bark_,
In which I row'd you o'er the lake;
See there, high waving o'er the park,
The _elm_, I clamber'd for your sake.

These times are past, our joys are gone,
You leave me, leave this happy vale;
These scenes, I must retrace alone,
Without thee, what will they avail.

Who can conceive, who has not prov'd,
The anguish of a last embrace?
When torn from all you fondly lov'd,
You bid a long adieu to peace.

_This_ is the deepest of our woes,
For _this_, these tears our cheeks bedew,