
As a boat arrives, the speaker laments the impending separation from Nancy. The speaker imagines gazing westward from a solitary shore and wondering whether Nancy thinks of the speaker as she wanders in a distant Indian grove.
By Robert Burns · Genre: Love Poetry, Lyric Poetry · 184 words
Behold the hour, the boat arrive; / Thou goest, the darling of my heart; / Sever'd from thee, can I survive, / But Fate has will'd and we must part. / I'll often greet the surging swell, / Yon distant Isle will often hail: / "E'en here I took the last farewell; / There, latest mark'd her vanish'd sail. " / Along the solitary shore, / While flitting sea-fowl round me cry, / Across the rolling, dashing roar, / I'll westward turn my wistful eye: / "Happy thou Indian grove," I'll say, / "Where now my Nancy's path may be! / While thro' thy sweets she loves to stray, / O tell me, does she muse on me! "
parting · longing · sea voyage · remembrance
Behold the Hour, the Boat Arrive (Second Version) is listed on Textopian as a poem by Robert Burns, dated Date unknown.
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