Farewell, Romantic Tivoli!
With all thy pleasant out-door time;
For now, again, we cross the sea,
To house us in our northern clime.

Since Love and Duty both advise
No longer, even here, to roam;
Nor all too slackly hold the ties,
That cluster round the heart of home.
And bid us find old feelings there;
And our own native pleasures woo;
Nor muse, as now, (how sweet soe'er
The musing be)—but plan—and do.

And yet, in many an interval,
How oft, Beloved Tivoli!
Shall Fancy hear thy waters fall;
And Memory come—to dream with Thee.

More verses by John Kenyon

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