Dark the wave, and dark the cloud,
Yet thy bark is on the sea;
Say "farewell" to other friends,
Do not say "farewell" to me.
Others may desert thy cause,
Others may desert thy side—
I cling to thee till the hour
Death shall me and thee divide.
Fatal is thy doomed house,
Last of an ill-fated line;
But through exile and through blood
I will follow thee and thine.
Never more thy step will be
On thy own, thy English shore;
Let another take thy land,
It will know thy place no more.
Vainly through a life of care
Have I struggled for thine own!
Must thy people know thee not?—
Must a stranger fill thy throne?
Let the old ancestral names
Which were bound to thee and thine,
Kneel before the rising sun—
Worship at a newer shrine.
Spurning our dishonoured land,
In yon bark I cross the wave:
Never will I leave thy side
Till I leave thee for the grave!