Bear me to the desert shore,
Love! — I am your slave no more:
She that borrow'd all your chains
Mine to wear no longer deigns.

Yet, though wounded, I abjure
Other loves that prompt the cure;
To the social banquet known,
Still I feel myself alone.

Yet on mountains bleak and rude
Mine is not a solitude;
Though my banish'd footsteps roam,
Still the heart renews its home.