Mirklands

Good bye, proud world! I’m going home
Thou art not my friend, and I’m not thine;
Long through thy weary crowds I roam;
Long I’ve been tossed like the driven foam
But now, proud world! I’m going home
I am going to my own hearth stone
Bosomed in yon green hills, alone
A secret nook in a pleasant land
Whose groves the frolic fairies planned
Good-bye to Flattery’s fawning face
To Grandeur, with his wise grimace
To frozen hearts, and hasting feet
To those who go, and those who come
Good-bye, proud world, I’m going home