The Poem

Dear native regions, [B] I foretell, From what I feel at this farewell, That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend, And whensoe'er my course shall end,

If in that hour a single tie Survive of local sympathy, My soul will cast the backward view, The longing look alone on you.

Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest Far in the regions of the west, Though to the vale no parting beam Be given, not one memorial gleam, A lingering light he fondly throws On the dear hills where first he rose.

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[Variant 1:

1832.

....shall 1815.]

[Variant 2:

1815.

That, when the close of life draws near, And I must quit this earthly sphere, If in that hour a tender tie MS.]

[Variant 3:

1845.

Thus, when the Sun, prepared for rest, Hath gained the precincts of the West, Though his departing radiance fail To illuminate the hollow Vale, 1815.

Thus, from the precincts of the West, The Sun, when sinking down to rest, 1832.

... while sinking ... 1836.

Hath reached the precincts ... MS.]

[Variant 4:

1815.

A lingering lustre fondly throws 1832.

The edition of 1845 reverts to the reading of 1815.]

[Variant 5:

1815.

On the dear mountain-tops ... 1820.

The edition of 1845 returns to the text of 1815.]

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