| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | XIII. Farewell
From ‘Life’ | | By Anna Letitia Barbauld (1743–1825) |
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LIFE! I know not what thou art, | |
| But know that thou and I must part; | |
| And when, or how, or where we met | |
| I own to me ’s a secret yet. | |
| But this I know, when thou art fled, | 5 |
| Where’er they lay these limbs, this head, | |
| No clod so valueless shall be | |
| As all that then remains of me…. | |
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| Life! we’ve been long together | |
| Through pleasant and through cloudy weather; | 10 |
| ’Tis hard to part when friends are dear— | |
| Perhaps ’twill cost a sigh, a tear; | |
| —Then steal away, give little warning, | |
| Choose thine own time; | |
| Say not Good-night,—but in some brighter clime | 15 |
| Bid me Good-morning. | | | | |
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