In vain by various griefs oppressed
I vagrant roam devoid of rest,
With aching heart, still lingering stray
Around the shores of Swansea Bay.
The restless waves that lave the shore,
Joining the tide's tumultuous roar,
In hollow murmurs seem to say —
Peace is not found at Swansea Bay.
The meek-eyed morning's lucid beam,
The pensive moon's pale shadowy gleam,
Still ceaseless urge — why this delay?
Go, hapless wretch, from Swansea Bay.
'Tis not for me the snowy sail
Swells joyous in the balmy gale,
Nor cuts the boat with frolic play
For me the waves of Swansea Bay.
The glow of health that tints each cheek,
The eyes that sweet contentment speak,
To mock my woes their charms display
And bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Haste, smiling nymphs, your beauties lave
And sport beneath the sparkling wave,
While I pursue my lonely way
Along the shores of Swansea Bay.
The frowning mountain's awful sweep,
The rocks that beetle o'er the deep,
The winds that round their summits play,
All bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Then, Kilvey hill, a long adieu,
I drag my sorrows hence from you:
Misfortune with imperious sway
Impels me far from Swansea Bay.
In vain by various griefs oppressed
I vagrant roam devoid of rest,
With aching heart, still lingering stray
Around the shores of Swansea Bay.
The restless waves that lave the shore,
Joining the tide's tumultuous roar,
In hollow murmurs seem to say —
Peace is not found at Swansea Bay.
The meek-eyed morning's lucid beam,
The pensive moon's pale shadowy gleam,
Still ceaseless urge — why this delay?
Go, hapless wretch, from Swansea Bay.
'Tis not for me the snowy sail
Swells joyous in the balmy gale,
Nor cuts the boat with frolic play
For me the waves of Swansea Bay.
The glow of health that tints each cheek,
The eyes that sweet contentment speak,
To mock my woes their charms display
And bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Haste, smiling nymphs, your beauties lave
And sport beneath the sparkling wave,
While I pursue my lonely way
Along the shores of Swansea Bay.
The frowning mountain's awful sweep,
The rocks that beetle o'er the deep,
The winds that round their summits play,
All bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Then, Kilvey hill, a long adieu,
I drag my sorrows hence from you:
Misfortune with imperious sway
Impels me far from Swansea Bay.
I vagrant roam devoid of rest,
With aching heart, still lingering stray
Around the shores of Swansea Bay.
The restless waves that lave the shore,
Joining the tide's tumultuous roar,
In hollow murmurs seem to say —
Peace is not found at Swansea Bay.
The meek-eyed morning's lucid beam,
The pensive moon's pale shadowy gleam,
Still ceaseless urge — why this delay?
Go, hapless wretch, from Swansea Bay.
'Tis not for me the snowy sail
Swells joyous in the balmy gale,
Nor cuts the boat with frolic play
For me the waves of Swansea Bay.
The glow of health that tints each cheek,
The eyes that sweet contentment speak,
To mock my woes their charms display
And bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Haste, smiling nymphs, your beauties lave
And sport beneath the sparkling wave,
While I pursue my lonely way
Along the shores of Swansea Bay.
The frowning mountain's awful sweep,
The rocks that beetle o'er the deep,
The winds that round their summits play,
All bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Then, Kilvey hill, a long adieu,
I drag my sorrows hence from you:
Misfortune with imperious sway
Impels me far from Swansea Bay.
In vain by various griefs oppressed
I vagrant roam devoid of rest,
With aching heart, still lingering stray
Around the shores of Swansea Bay.
The restless waves that lave the shore,
Joining the tide's tumultuous roar,
In hollow murmurs seem to say —
Peace is not found at Swansea Bay.
The meek-eyed morning's lucid beam,
The pensive moon's pale shadowy gleam,
Still ceaseless urge — why this delay?
Go, hapless wretch, from Swansea Bay.
'Tis not for me the snowy sail
Swells joyous in the balmy gale,
Nor cuts the boat with frolic play
For me the waves of Swansea Bay.
The glow of health that tints each cheek,
The eyes that sweet contentment speak,
To mock my woes their charms display
And bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Haste, smiling nymphs, your beauties lave
And sport beneath the sparkling wave,
While I pursue my lonely way
Along the shores of Swansea Bay.
The frowning mountain's awful sweep,
The rocks that beetle o'er the deep,
The winds that round their summits play,
All bid me fly from Swansea Bay.
Then, Kilvey hill, a long adieu,
I drag my sorrows hence from you:
Misfortune with imperious sway
Impels me far from Swansea Bay.