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GOOD BY.
When stern December chills the sea,
And, by the mighty winds led forth,
The storms come hurrying from the north,
I know how you will think of me.
Good by!
How lost and distant I shall be!
And, by the mighty winds led forth,
The storms come hurrying from the north,
I know how you will think of me.
Good by!
How lost and distant I shall be!
Seen from my dear old window there,
How the white gusts will drive and whirl
And, crusting all the walls with pearl,
The sleet come slanting through the air.
Good by!
Then I shall be far otherwhere!
How the white gusts will drive and whirl
And, crusting all the walls with pearl,
The sleet come slanting through the air.
Good by!
Then I shall be far otherwhere!
But, though I linger long away,
I know the few who prize my name
Will trust and love me all the same,
And hold me as they do to-day.
Good by!
Say it not mournfully, I pray!
I know the few who prize my name
Will trust and love me all the same,
And hold me as they do to-day.
Good by!
Say it not mournfully, I pray!
And if, in wrath and treachery,
The ocean from its trust departs,
The ocean from its trust departs,
