LX.

Adieu to thee again! a vain adieu!

There can be no farewell to scene like thine;

The mind is coloured by thy every hue;

And if reluctantly the eyes resign

Their cherished gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine!

'Tis with the thankful glance of parting praise;

More mighty spots may rise—more glaring shine,[iv]

But none unite in one attaching maze

The brilliant, fair, and soft,—the glories of old days,

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