Solyman Brown (1790–1876)

FAREWELL to the land that my fathers defended;

Farewell to the field which their ashes inurn;

The holiest flame on their altars descended,

Which, fed by their sons, shall eternally burn:

Ah! soft be the bed where the hero reposes;

And light be the green turf that over him closes—

Gay Flora shall deck, with her earliest roses,

The graves of my sires, and the land of my birth.

Adieu to the scenes which my heart’s young emotions

Have drest in attire so alluringly gay;

Ah! never, no never, can billowing oceans,

Nor time, drive the fond recollections away!

From days that are past, present comfort I borrow;

The scenes of to-day shall be brighter to-morrow;

In age I ’ll recall, as a balm for my sorrow,

The graves of my sires, and the land of my birth.

I go to the West, where the forest, receding,

Invites the adventurous axe-man along;

I go to the groves where the wild deer are feeding,

And mountain-birds carol their loveliest song:

Adieu to the land that my fathers defended,

Adieu to the soil on which freemen contended,

Adieu to the sons who from heroes descended,

The graves of my sires and the land of my birth.

When far from my home and surrounded by strangers,

My thoughts shall recall the gay pleasures of youth:

Though life’s stormy ocean shall threaten with dangers,

My soul shall repose in the sunshine of truth:

While streams to their own native ocean are tending,

And forest oaks, swept by the tempest, are bending,

My soul shall exult, as she ’s proudly defending

The graves of my sires, and the land of my birth.