When we two parted In silence and tears, Half broken-hearted, To sever for years.
A schoolboy's tale, the wonder of an hour!
The Niobe of nations! there she stands.
War, war is still the cry,-"war even to the knife!"
I depart, Whither I know not; but the hour's gone by When Albion's lessening shores could grieve or glad mine eye.
One hates an author that's all author.