'And must we part? Ah, yes, it must be so.
'Yet ere thou leavest me in utter woe,
'Let me sob over thee my last adieus,
'And speak a blessing: Mark me! Thou hast thews
'Immortal, for thou art of heavenly race:
'But such a love is mine, that here I chace
'Eternally away from thee all bloom
'Of youth, and destine thee towards a tomb.
'Hence shalt thou quickly to the watery vast;
'And there, ere many days be overpast,
'Disabled age shall seize thee; and even then
'Thou shalt not go the way of aged men;
'But live and wither, cripple and still breathe
'Ten hundred years: which gone, I then bequeath
'Thy fragile bones to unknown burial.
'Adieu, sweet love, adieu!'- As shot stars fall,
She fled ere I could groan for mercy. Stung
And poison'd was my spirit: despair sung
A war-song of defiance 'gainst all hell.
A hand was at my shoulder to compel
My sullen steps; another 'fore my eyes
Moved on with pointed finger. In this guise
Enforced, at the last by ocean's foam
I found me; by my fresh, my native home.
Its tempering coolness, to my life akin,
Came salutary as I waded in;
And, with a blind voluptuous rage, I gave
Battle to the swollen billow-ridge, and drave
Large froth before me, while there yet remain'd
Hale strength, nor from my bones all marrow drain'd.
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