"The world is all before me; I but ask Of nature that with which she will comply-- It is but in her summer's sun to bask, To mingle with the quiet of her sky, To see her gentle face without a mask, And never gaze on it with apathy. She was my early friend, and now shall be My sister--till I look again on thee. "I can reduce all feelings but this one; And that I would not;--for at length I see Such scenes as those wherein my life begun. The earliest--even the only paths for me-- Had I but sooner learnt the crowd to shun, I had been better than I now can be; The passions which have torn me would have slept; _I_ had not suffer'd, and _thou_ hadst not wept. "With false ambition what had I to do? Little with love, and least of all with fame; And yet they came unsought, and with me grew, And made me all which they can make--a name. Yet this was not the end I did pursue; Surely I once beheld a nobler aim. But all is over--I am one the more To baffled millions which have gone before. "And for the future, this world's future may From me demand but little of my care; I have outlived myself by many a day; Having survived so many things that were; My years have been no slumber, but the prey Of ceaseless vigils; for I had the share Of life which might have fill'd a century, Before its fourth in time had pass'd me by. "And for the remnant which may be to come I am content; and for the past I feel Not thankless,--for within the crowded sum Of struggles, happiness at times would steal, And for the present, I would not benumb My feelings farther.--Nor shall I conceal That with all this I still can look around And worship Nature with a thought profound. "For thee, my own sweet sister, in thy heart I know myself secure, as thou in mine: We were and are--I am, even as thou art-- Beings who ne'er each other can resign; It is the same, together or apart, From life's commencement to its slow decline We are entwined--let death come slow or fast, The tie which bound the first endures the last!" [Footnote 125: "Admiral Byron was remarkable for never making a voyage without a tempest. He was known to the sailors by the facetious name of 'Foul-weather Jack.' "But, though it were tempest-tost, Still his bark could not be lost. He returned safely from the wreck of the Wager (in Anson's Voyage), and subsequently circumnavigated the world, many years after, as commander of a similar expedition."] [Footnote 126: The lake of Newstead Abbey.] * * * * *