Adieu to thee, Emory! adieu to thee now!
There is grief in my spirit, there's gloom on my brow,
I have left the sweet scenes where I knelt at thy shrine,
O Learning! thy wreath with my name to entwine.

Adieu to the scenes where, when study was o'er,
And the toil of the mind was remembered no more;
I roamed o'er the mountains, forgetful, afar,
'Neath the light of the beautiful Evening Star.

Like the light of that star--like a splendor on high--
Like a Heavenly Dream that was born in the sky--
Bright Poesy burst on my pathway even there,
And a rainbow of Beauty encircled the air.

Ah! she shone with a brilliance more dazzling and strong,
Than e'er to a child of the earth could belong;
And her pinions that waved through the rose-scented air,
Had a tint that was brighter than thought can declare.

Yet adieu to thee, Emory,--thy scenes I regret;
In a far distant scene, I may think of them yet;
Fond Fancy may roam o'er thy mountains again,
And love them as freshly and warmly as then.

Yet, the tears gush unbidden, when breathing adieu,--
With the change of our years, our hearts are changed too!
And, haply, the world, with its coldness, will chill
My feelings at length, as bleak winter the rill.