Poem by Anne Hunter

The Farewell

A SONG.

FAR from hope, and lost to pleasure,
Haste away to war's alarms!
Sad I leave my soul's dear treasure
For the dismal din of arms.
But, ah! for thee, I follow glory,
To gain thy love I dare to die;
And when my comrades tell my story,
Thou shalt lament me with a sigh.
All my griefs will then be over,
Sunk in death's eternal rest;
You may regret a faithful lover,
Though you refuse to make him bless'd.
Bestow a tear of kind compassion
To grace a hapless soldier's tomb;
And, ah! forgive a fatal passion,
Which reason could not overcome.

1. Song 6. IN airy dreams fond fancy flies
2. Addressed to Mrs. G.
3. To My Son, Age 15, at Cambridge
4. Song 5. FAR, far from me my love is fled
5. To the Memory of Thomas Chatterton

Lucy Montgomery The Farewell ("He rides away with sword and spur")

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