PASTOR'S SONG ON LEAVING THE ISLAND.

Soon Sol will sink into the West And Luna shed her silvery beams; Each songster seeks its wild-wood nest To spend the night in love's sweet dreams.

And we, dear friends, prepare to leave This Isle and each delightful scene, And feel we have no cause to grieve That we upon its shores have been.

For all, throughout this lovely day, Have had much pleasure free from pain. Then let us, ere we go away, Lift up our hearts in praise again.

"O Thou who from thy bounteous hand Dost give thy children all they need, Behold us now—a loving band, And all our boats in safety speed

"To yonder bay; then guide us home. Accept our thanks for mercies great We have enjoyed beneath thy dome, In humble, yet contented state."

Farewell, sweet Isle; may thy fair scenes Ne'er witness orgies, vile, profane; For this man's character demeans, And never yields him solid gain.