E have looked our last on the well-known walls, Which we may behold no more; At least they will wear a far other hue Than for us they have worn before. We have met with glee round the social board, Where we never may meet again, Though dear must those hours to memory be, While life or while thought remain.
For blent with the fairest of youthful dreams That familiar spot has been; And remembrances dear as life's young spring Have hallowed the lowly scene. The quiet hamlet, the old grey church, E'en the forms that within it bow, Are blent with the hopes of those early years, Fulfilled, and how brightly! now.
Jut ye, dear friends, so long loved and well, From these peaceful scenes must roam, To seek, though the noon of life be past, Another and far-off home. But with the truest of all farewells, And best, ye shall hence depart; The heart-warm blessing, the tearful prayer, Of many a lowly heart.
And though now ye must leave at duty's call The home of long-wedded years, Yet blessed be God that ye leave it not With widowed and orphan tears. But ye go with a calm and trustful heart, To find in another sphere The same circle of holy toil and love, The same fireside peace as here.
'Tis mournful to think of familiar scenes, Forsaken by those so dear; Of the youthful voices, the laughter's sound, That shall echo no longer here. Jut turn we with hope to the coming hours, On the past let us cease to dwell, And bid ye God-speed to your future home, As to this we now sigh farewell.
E have looked our last on the well-known walls,
E have looked our last on the well-known walls,