Adieu
Fades the sodden wharf, and fades the spire.
The anchored ships are lost. The climbing town
Fades out. The narrows close. The cliffs retire.
The green hill-pastures blur against the brown.
The free wind strains our pinions of gray sail.
Low slips the sombre shore toward the blue.
The sun-shot lighthouse windows glint and fail.
Our rounded topsails dip their long adieu.
