The New York Journal, And Weekly Register

POET'S CORNER.

SUMMER'S FAREWELL.

To Summer's flowers I bid farewell
To thee O warbling philomel.
To all the lovely winged tribe,
Which in thy regions now reside.
I bid adieu! adieu ye flowers,
Ye mild, ye placid gentle showers
Farewell ye skies of azure blue:
Ye trills of birds, adieu! adieu.
To lovely meads, to cloud-capt hills,
To murmuring brooks, to purling rills,
To gentle streams, to rural bow'rs,
To groves with their attractive pow'rs.
I bid adieu! adieu ye vales,
Ye fragrant, spicy, zephyrous gales
Farewell ye banks of verdant hue:
Ye woods, ye fields. adieu! adieu
To scaly tribes, to spangled scenes.
To cool retreats, to sylvan themes,
To lowing kine to bleating flocks.
To mountains of romantic rocks,
I bid adieu! adieu ye plains,
Ye woodland nymphs, ye rural swains
Farewell ye drops of pearly dew,
Ye pleasing shades, adieu! adieu
To spreading lawns, to humble cots,
To pebbled shores, to shelly grots,
To soothing strains, to dying lays,
To nature's mild and gentle rays;
I bid adieu! adieu ye lawns.
Ye tender kids, ye sportive fawns;
Farewell ye tints which gild the view.
Ye circling beauties, adieu! adieu,

THOMAS SMITH