Page:Poems Cook.djvu/352

Then why not we as merry be,
 Though this song be the last,
Believing other hours will come
 As bright as those just past!

The wild bird's song is loud and long,
 But the sweetest and the best
Is whistled as he leaves the bough,
 To seek his lonely nest.
The sun's rich beam shines through the day,
 But flashes deeper still
While darting forth his farewell ray
 Behind the western hill.
Then why not we as merry be,
 In this our parting strain?
For, like the bird and sun, we'll come
 With joy and warmth again.

The moments fled, like violets dead,
 Shall never lose their power;
For grateful perfume ever marks
 The Memory's wither'd flower.
The sailor's lay, in peaceful bay,
 With gladsome mirth rings out;
But when the heavy anchor's weigh'd,
 He gives as blithe a shout.
Then why not we as merry be,
 In this our parting strain;
And trust, as gallant sailors do,
 To make the port again?

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