Poems (Holford)/Good Bye to the Muse

by Margaret Holford (1778-1852)

GOOD BYE TO THE MUSE.

 

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Fare thee well, my dear Muse! I have lov'd thee, 'tis true,
And our severing costs me a sigh,
But Time, Chance, and Destiny, must have their due,
And 'tis sooner or later-Good bye!

 Good bye to Ambition, to pleasure, to pelf,
Good bye to our air-founded views,
Good bye to our follies-Good bye to ourself,
Good bye to the once-cherish'd Muse!

 Yet linger a moment! for ere thou depart
Methinks I would commune awhile,
On moments which thou hast made dear to my heart
With thy converse, thy song, and thy smile;

 For I bear not a heart, all relentless and stern,
Without once looking back which can sever,
And which scorns that the high-seated spirit should yearn
Over joys which are parting for ever;

 I bear not a heart, which can sullenly say,
"Because I have found thee deceiving,
Past illusions, forgotten in truths of to-day,
Farewel! without thinking or grieving!"

 I have sigh'd o'er the rose which but blushes to fade,
O'er the shadow which darkens our views,
Over ev'ry frail beauty which bloom'd and decay'd,
And shall I not sigh for my Muse!

 Yet they say, and I fear there is truth in the tale,
In sickness, in age, or in sorrow,
The fair-promising Muse will her votary fail,
And a hint from expediency borrow;

 Then 'tis better to tear the fresh laurel, I ween,
While it blossoms and flaunts on my brow,
Than to wait till cold winter has wither'd its green,
And to watch while it perishes slow;

 And 'tis better to yield while unbiass'd and free,
Than to wait till a blessing is taken;
So I take a proud leave gentle Music of thee,
That by thee I may ne'er be forsaken!