THE
ADIEU
AND
RECALL
TO
LOVE
.
Go
,
idle
Boy
!
I
quit
thy
pow'r
;
Thy
couch
of
many
a
thorn
and
flow'r
;
Thy
twanging
bow
,
thine
arrow
keen
,
Deceitful
Beauty's
timid
mien
;
The
feign'd
surprize
,
the
roguish
leer
,
The
tender
smile
,
the
thrilling
tear
,
Have
now
no
pangs
,
no
joys
for
me
,
So
fare
thee
well
,
for
I
am
free
!
Then
flutter
hence
on
wanton
wing
,
Or
lave
thee
in
yon
lucid
spring
,
Or
take
thy
bev'rage
from
the
rose
,
Or
on
Louisa's
breast
repose
:
I
wish
thee
well
for
pleasures
past
,
Yet
bless
the
hour
,
I'm
free
at
last
.
But
sure
,
methinks
,
the
alter'd
day
Scatters
around
a
mournful
ray
;
And
chilling
ev'ry
zephyr
blows
,
And
ev'ry
stream
untuneful
flows
;
No
rapture
swells
the
linnet's
voice
,
No
more
the
vocal
groves
rejoice
;
And
e'en
thy
song
,
sweet
Bird
of
Eve
!
With
whom
I
lov'd
so
oft
to
grieve
,
Now
scarce
regarded
meets
my
ear
,
Unanswer'd
by
a
sigh
or
tear
.
No
more
with
devious
step
I
choose
To
brush
the
mountain's
morning
dews
;
To
drink
the
spirit
of
the
breeze
,
Or
wander
midst
o'er-arching
trees
;
Or
woo
with
undisturb'd
delight
,
The
pale-cheek'd
Virgin
of
the
Night
,
That
piercing
thro'
the
leafy
bow'r
,
Throws
on
the
ground
a
silv'ry
show'r
.
Alas
!
is
all
this
boasted
ease
,
To
lose
each
warm
desire
to
please
,
No
sweet
solicitude
to
know
For
others
bliss
,
for
others
woe
,
A
frozen
apathy
to
find
,
A
sad
vacuity
of
mind
?
O
hasten
back
,
then
,
idle
Boy
,
And
with
thine
anguish
bring
thy
joy
!
Return
with
all
thy
torments
here
,
And
let
me
hope
,
and
doubt
,
and
fear
.
O
rend
my
heart
with
ev'ry
pain
!
But
let
me
,
let
me
love
again
.
DELLA
CRUSCA
.