C.N. Douglas, comp. Forty Thousand Quotations: Prose and Poetical. 1917.


The bitter word which closed all earthly friendships, and finished every feast of love,—farewell.


Farewell! “But not for ever.”


Sweets to the sweet; farewell!


  • Farewell, happy fields,
  • Where joy forever dwells; hail, horrors!
  • Milton.

  • So sweetly she bade me adieu,
  • I thought that she bade me return.
  • Shenstone.

  • To all, to each, a fair good-night,
  • And pleasing dreams, and slumbers light.
  • Scott.

  • Fare thee well! and if for ever,
  • Still for ever, fare thee well.
  • Byron.

  • Farewell! if ever fondest prayer
  • For other’s weal availed on high,
  • Mine will not all be lost in air
  • But waft thy name beyond the sky.
  • Byron.

  • Farewell the tranquil mind! farewell content!
  • Farewell the plumed troops, and the big wars
  • That make ambition virtue.
  • Shakespeare.

  • Fare thee well;
  • The elements be kind to thee, and make
  • Thy spirits all of comfort!
  • Shakespeare.

  • Farewell! a word that must be, and hath been—
  • A sound which makes us linger;—yet—farewell.
  • Byron.

  • Farewell!
  • For in that word,—that fatal word,—howe’er
  • We promise—hope—believe,—there breathes despair.
  • Byron.

  • One kind kiss before we part,
  • Drop a tear, and bid adieu;
  • Though we sever, my fond heart
  • Till we meet shall pant for you.
  • Robert Dodsley.

  • ’Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh;
  • Oh, more than tears of blood can tell
  • When wrung from guilt’s expiring eye,
  • Are in the word farewell—farewell.
  • Byron.

    The happy never say, and never hear said, farewell.


    Where thou art gone, adieus and farewells are a sound unknown.


    Gude nicht, and joy be wi’ you a’.

    Lady Nairne.

    Give me your hand first; fare you well.


    “Adieu,” she cries, and waved her lily hand.


    Farewell, and stand fast.


  • So, farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear,
  • Farewell remorse: all good to me is lost.
  • Milton.

  • Here’s a sigh to those who love me,
  • And a smile to those who hate;
  • And, whatever sky’s above me,
  • Here’s a heart for ev’ry fate.
  • Byron.

  • One struggle more, and I am free
  • From pangs that rend my heart in twain;
  • One last long sigh to love and thee,
  • Then back to busy life again.
  • Byron.

  • Then fare thee well, deceitful maid,
  • ’Twere vain and fruitless to regret thee;
  • Nor hope nor memory yield their aid,
  • But time may teach me to forget thee.
  • Byron.

  • Let’s not unman each other—part at once;
  • All farewells should be sudden, when forever,
  • Else they make an eternity of moments,
  • And clog the last sad sands of life with tears.
  • Byron.

  • Farewell the plumed troop, and the big wars,
  • That make ambition virtue! O, farewell!
  • Farewell the neighing steed, and the shrill trump.
  • The spirit-stirring drum, the ear-piercing fife.
  • Shakespeare.

  • Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
  • This is the state of man; To-day he puts forth
  • The tender leaves of hope; to-morrow blossoms
  • And bears his blushing honors thick upon him:
  • The third day comes a frost, a killing frost;
  • And—when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
  • His greatness is a-ripening,—nips his root,
  • And then he falls as I do.
  • Shakespeare.