Behold the Hour, the Boat Arrive

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!”