Classic Poem

Farewell Old England's shores!
?Farewell her rugged men!
Now, sailors, strain your oars!
?I ne'er will look again.
I've liv'd—I've sought—I've seen—
?Oh, things I love too well,
Upon those shores of green:
?So, England! long farewell!
Farewell!
I go,—what matter where?
?The Exile, when he flies,
Thinks not of other air,—
?Dreams not of clien skies:
He seeks but to depart
?From the land he loves too well,
From thoughts that smite his heart:
?So, England! long farewell!
Farewell!
O'er lands and the lonely main,
?A lonelier man, I roam,
To seek some balm for pain,
?Perhaps to find a home:
I go,—but Time nor tide,
?Nor all that tongue may tell,
Shall e'er from thee divide
?My heart,—and so, farewell!
Old England, fare thee well!