FAREWELL TO WOBURN

Composed by John Williams in 1814 on leaving Woburn School at the age of twelve years.

My shell involkes the inspiring muse from high,
Her realms bright Ether and her walks the sky
To swell my verse with "Woburn's" noble scene,
Her lakes blue bosom and her hills of green;
Fringed by the Orb of day whose golden light
Shed its faint ray; but dazzled not my sight.
Oft have I wandered when the evening bell
Toll'd its loud peal, the lakes, the hills farewell,
And when Aurora o'er the eastern skies
Pours her fair light in brighter richer dyes,
Musing I roved where'er the scene was new,
Where waving pine trees caught my enraptured view,
Through paths where the mild Zephyr gently plays
And the lone blackbird chants its mellow lays,
Where Philomela when all else is still
Tunes her sweet throat from her sequestered hill.
Yet still a long Farewell! thy airy glades
Thy lilied forests, and thy laurelled shades
Thy cloudless sky, thy groves of verdant hue,
Wave to the wind, and sigh a fond adieu!
Adieu, blest scenes! where oft the poet's eye
Might gaze - has gazed - in silent ecstasy
Gazed on the scene which fairy fancy draw,
When golden Morn has robed herself in dew,
Refreshing Morn! whose ray dispels the night
and paints the landscape with her rosy light,
Hark! o'er the lake where the lone heron dwells,
A last farewell the ivied church clock swells,
Loads the fleet winds that skim the lofty oak
Where oft the wild notes of the woodlark woke.
Here would I sit in Summer's fleeting hours,
And breathe the freshness of thy wildwood flowers
Sweet as the living breath which Nature gives
When Spring returns and all creation lives.
Mark through yon trees 'eer Summer's eve retires
The golden sun that gilds the distant spires
And as I bid thy tender scenes Farewell,
May pensive memory in my bosom swell!
But vain the wish - one short hour and I go,
Away! Away! in bitterness of woe,
To seek another vale where n'eer is seen
The folded lily in its leaf of green,
Where no pine forests towering to the sky
Nor lofty cedar greets the roving eye,
To trace her lonely steps serenely sweet,
And ye fair hills whose banks of auburn hue
Have caught the blue mist and the falling dew,
One long long look! and from your base I turn,
To track the steps of forune dark and stern,
One more! one more! and night's dim shadows robe
With curtains dim the variegated globe
The scene no longer can my sight pursue,
Scenes of my far fled joys - Adieu!

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John Williams is the brother to Edward Williams who is my Great-Great-Grand-Farther
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