Treasure Island

Charles Tompson

(1807-1883 / Australia)

Ode VI. Farewell

Farewell! yet, while the rolling billows
Waft you o'er their parent deep,
Let the shade of recent friendship
Sometimes sympathise and weep!

When, with soft and prosp'rous breezes,
Heav'n propels the swelling sails,
Think, my pray'r is speeding for you—
Read my wishes in the gales!

But, should storms the waters blacken,
And dark clouds deform the sky,
And the troubled ocean, roaring,
Roll its billowy mountains high,
Then, when cheerless eyes and bosoms,
(Heav'n avert such lot from you!)
Swell tow'rd heav'n in supplication,
Think that I am weeping too!

May, to cheer your happy voyage,
Storms fly off and whirlwinds cease,
And Tasmania's favour'd haven
Prove to you a home of peace!

Thither, while the waves you're plowing,
I will seek some lonely cell,
Doubtful, hoping,—hopeless, asking,
“Must this be a last farewell?”

Submitted: Thursday, March 04, 2010

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