Farewell to the barque! see how swiftly she's flying!
Her prow cuts the waves as they ripple along;
The gentle south wind through her rigging is sighing,
And the sailor sings sadly his farewell song, —
He sings his farewell to the land of his birth,
To his home, to his kindred, and all he holds dear,
And he thinks his own land is the best spot on earth,
As down his brown cheek rolls the sorrowful tear.

Farewell to the barque! see how stately she glides,
With her tall, tapering spars towering up to the skies!
Regardless alike of the wind and the tides,
Like a dream of the morning, on, onward she flies;
With her streamers aloft and her snowy sails spread,
Like a vision of beauty she gleams on our sight;
Far, far to the horizon's verge she has sped,
And shows by the setting sun glorious and bright.

Farewell to the barque! Ah, for ever farewell!
When yon sun disappears from those soft purpling skies,
When the ocean waves heave with their dark midnight swell,
That barque may for ever be lost to our eyes!
But o'er uncertain evils, oh! why should we mourn,
Or foretell the tales that seem doubtful and dark?
That ship in her splendour may safely return
And gladden our hearts — then farewell to the barque!