First of women, best of friends
Take what a village rhymer sends,
A tear wet trifle sent to tell
The giver must bid thee farewell!
And shall I then when o'er the sea
Forget thee? No, it cannot be
When thinking of much loved Grace Hill,
[1] Its drops of joy, its drafts of ill
I shed the fond regretting tear,
For those I did I do hold dear,
First shall mid those I parted with
Stand Friendship's Ray Elizabeth

[Footnote 1: Burns]

1844




FAREWELL TO LORD AND LADY DUFFERIN


In leaving us, whom thou hast governed well
Holding the helm of state through all these years
The land at large unites in a farewell
That's mingled with regret akin to tears

My Lord, we welcomed you in coming here