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COTTAGE DAYS
VII
The Farewell
At this lock’d door of past delights,
Towards my tranquil singing cell,
My minstrel days, and minstrel nights,
Turning, I pause to say “Farewell!”
O dawns of dewy grey, that broke
On throstles singing in the dark!
O firelit evenings, when what spark
Fell! and what long-dead flame awoke,
What prison’d bird within me sang
Till in my heart the rafters rang!
Silence creeps close; once more the drowsy spell
Falls—falls. O swift and sudden Song, farewell!
Farewell, dear neighbours, ten days past
Unhoped—by your quick courtesies,
Your swift upleaping sympathies,
Bound now unto Regret, how fast!
To all the faithful homely care
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