To B. W.
So, kind, unconquered spirit, fare you well.
Sedbergh must onward yet with steadfast mind,
(For such would be your wish) — nor must we tell
The world of sorrow that you leave behind.
And yet we feel Winder doth surely grieve
His well-loved pilgrim of the happy years. —
Surely the day droops sadly: and at eve
Our Heaven trembles into starry tears!
Sedbergh must onward yet with steadfast mind,
(For such would be your wish) — nor must we tell
The world of sorrow that you leave behind.
And yet we feel Winder doth surely grieve
His well-loved pilgrim of the happy years. —
Surely the day droops sadly: and at eve
Our Heaven trembles into starry tears!
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