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DEPARTURE.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

I ASK, dear friend, a boon if thou wilt let me,

Who sailest to fair countries far away,

Trusting thyself unto the ocean gray:

It is not that thou never wilt forget me,

But keep me aye in thought when thou hast quit me, -

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Such burden on thy mind would heavy weigh;

It is not that thou 'It bring me an array

Of quaint and costly gifts when thou hast met me;

But only this, that thou remain unchanged,

Unchanging ever in each foreign shore,

Each city, that in roaming thou wilt see;

Thus shalt thou be familiar, not estranged

Nor different from thine old self, when once more

Homeward at length thou comest back to me.

O. W.

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