Why do I weep? to leave the vine
Whose clusters o'er me bend, —
The myrtle — yet, oh! call it mine! —
The flowers I loved to tend.
A thousand thoughts of all things dear
Like shadows o'er me sweep,
I leave my sunny childhood here,
Oh, therefore, let me weep!

I leave thee, sister! we have play'd
Through many a joyous hour,
Where the silvery green of the olive shade
Hung dim o'er fount and bower.
Yes, thou and I, by stream, by shore,
In song, in prayer, in sleep,
Have been as we may be no more —
Kind sister, let me weep!

I leave thee father! Eve's bright moon
Must now light other feet,
With the gather'd grapes, and the lyre in tune
Thy homeward step to greet.
Thou in whose voice, to bless thy child,
Lay tones of love so deep,
Whose eye o'er all my youth hath smiled —
I leave thee! let me weep!

Mother! I leave thee! on thy breast,
Pouring out joy and woe,
I have found that holy place of rest
Still changeless, — yet I go!
Lips, that have lull'd me with your strain,
Eyes, that have watch'd my sleep:
Will earth give love like yours again?
Sweet mother! let me weep!