The sun in ocean's bed declining,
Brightly the moon begins to smile;
The little stars are sweetly shining
To welcome us to Jersey Isle.
The waves our bark are gently bearing,
While faintly lingers day awhile;
List! to the minstrel's music cheering,
A welcome to fair Jersey Isle.
But other lands and other feelings
Call me from thee many a mile,
And there will nature's fond revealings
Bid me forego fair Jersey Isle.
But ah! if false those friends forsake me
If nought my lonely hours beguile,
Nor pride shall wound, nor sorrow break me,
Hope woos me back to Jersey Isle.
From The Last of the Garayes, and Other Poems
by An Englishwoman
Dedicated to the British Residents at Dinan.
J. B. Huart, Place Du Champ, 1868
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