Arrive（1 / 1）

behold the hour, the boat arrive

behold the hour, the boat arrive;

thou goest, the darling of my heart;

sever'd from thee, can i survive,

but fate has will'd and we must part.

i'll often greet the surging swell,

yon distant isle will often hail:

“e'en here i took the last farewell;

there, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail.”

along the solitary shore,

while flitting sea-fowl round me cry,

across the rolling, dashing roar,

i'll westward turn my wistful eye:

“happy thou indian grove,” i'll say,

“where now my nancy's path may be!

while thro' thy sweets she loves to stray,

o tell me, does she muse on me!”