432. Song—Behold the hour etc. (Second Version)

 BEHOLD the hour, the boat arrive;
 Thou goest, the darling of my heart;
Sever’d from thee, can I survive,
 But Fate has will’d and we must part.

I’ll often greet the surging swell,
 Yon distant Isle will often hail:
“E’en here I took the last farewell;
 There, latest mark’d her vanish’d sail.
”
Along the solitary shore,
 While flitting sea-fowl round me cry,
Across the rolling, dashing roar,
 I’ll westward turn my wistful eye:
“Happy thou Indian grove,” I’ll say,
 “Where now my Nancy’s path may be!
While thro’ thy sweets she loves to stray,
 O tell me, does she muse on me!”

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