Poem by Henry King, Bishop of Chichester

The Farewell

Splendidis longum valedico nugis.

Farewell fond Love, under whose childish whip,
I have serv'd out a weary Prentiship;
Thou that hast made me thy scorn'd property,
To dote on Rocks, but yielding Loves to fly:
Go bane of my dear quiet and content,
Now practise on some other Patient.
Farewell false Hope that fann'd my warm desire
Till it had rais'd a wild unruly fire,
Which nor sighs cool, nor tears extinguish can,
Although my eyes out-flow'd the Ocean:
Forth of my thoughts for ever, Thing of Air,
Begun in errour, finish't in despair.
Farewell vain World, upon whose restless stage
Twixt Love and Hope I have foold out my age;
Henceforth ere sue to thee for my redress,
Ile wooe the wind, or court the wilderness;
And buried from the dayes discovery,
Study a slow yet certain way to dy.
My woful Monument shall be a Cell,
The murmur of the purling brook my knell;
My lasting Epitaph the Rock shall grone:
Thus when sad Lovers ask the weeping stone,
What wretched thing does in that Center lie?
The hollow Eccho will reply, 'twas I. 

1. To His Friends of Christ-Church upon the Mislike of the Marriage of the Arts Acted at Woodstock
2. To My Sister Anne King, Who Chid Me In Verse For Being Angry
3. The Vow-Breaker
4. Madam Gabrina, Or The Ill-Favourd Choice
5. Sonnet. Dry those fair, those chrystal eyes

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

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