DEAR native regions, I foretell, <br />From what I feel at this farewell, <br />That, wheresoe'er my steps may tend, <br />And whensoe'er my course shall end, <br />If in that hour a single tie <br />Survive of local sympathy, <br />My soul will cast the backward view, <br />The longing look alone on you. <br /> <br />Thus, while the Sun sinks down to rest <br />Far in the regions of the west, <br />Though to the vale no parting beam <br />Be given, not one memorial gleam, <br />A lingering light he fondly throws <br />On the dear hills where first he rose.<br /><br />William Wordsworth<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/extract-from-the-conclusion-of-a-poem-composed-in-anticipation-of-leaving-school/
