I found it contained a roll of caricatures, together
with one of the earliest journals ever printed in Pennsylvania, and a
couple of copies of the latest journal started here, being the first
number of a Newcastle journal that very day published.

In an hour after, we embarked; and this attention of a stranger was the
last kind act of the many courtesies which I have received in this
country, which I quit with the feelings of a son of the soil.

After dropping down as far as Delaware city, we anchored for the tide.
As it blew fresh, our pilot determined not to weigh before daylight.

_Sunday 21st._--On coming from between decks found that we were well out
in the bay, a schooner standing for us to take our pilot. I descended to
the cabin to write a note or two, and found myself almost involuntarily
scribbling verses. 'Tis an odd freak of my fancy, that although never
addicted to poetizing, and ordinarily incapable of manufacturing a
couplet that will jingle even, I am rarely agitated by any strong
feeling, without having a sort of desire to rhyme; luckily the delusion
is exceedingly short-lived, and unfrequent in its visitations. The
reader shall, however, have all the benefit of my present attempt, as I
feel bound to treat him, who may have held on with me thus far, with
perfect confidence.

ADIEU.

_Written on board Packet Ship Algonquin, Captain Cheney--Bay of
Delaware--pilot about to quit the ship--two p.m.--June 21st, 1835._

Adieu, Columbia! I have mark'd thee well,
Nor yet for ever do I leave thee now;
And busy thoughts of thee my bosom swell,
And thronging recollections load my brow:
I've pierced, from North to South, thy eternal woods,
Have dream'd in fair St. Lawrence' sweetest isle;[5]
Have breasted Mississippi's hundred floods,
And woo'd, on Alleghany's top, Aurora's smile.

And now we part! The ship is flying fast,
Her pathway deck'd with whirling wreaths of foam;
And all the swelling sails that bend each mast
Obey the flag, which, fluttering, points to "Home!"
Home! home! that tender word let me retrace,
And bid each letter conjure o'er the sea
Some cherish'd wish, and every well-loved face,
To banish thought of those from whom I flee.

Yet shame I not to bear an o'er-full heart,
Nor blush to turn behind my tearful eyes:
'Tis from no st