“But, reader, there is no comfort in the word "farewell," even if you say it in French. "Farewell" is a word that, in any language, is full of sorrow. It is a word that promises absolutely nothing.”

A Thought on Parting.
Context: But then to part! to part when Time
Has wreathed his tireless wing with flowers,
And spread the richness of a clime
Of fairy o'er this land of ours;
When glistening leaves and shaded streams
In the soft light of Autumn lay,
And, like the music of our dreams,
The viewless breezes seemed to stray—
'T was bitter then to rend the heart
With the sad thought that we must part;
And, like some low and mournful spell,
To whisper but one word—farewell!

End of Joyce's last broadcast (His voice heavily slurred due to an apparent state of intoxication)

Source: The Tale of Despereaux (2004)

Source: The Winter of Our Discontent

Baltimore Evening Sun (12 June 1922)
1920s

Source: Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There

Source: Dreaming the Dark: Magic, Sex and Politics (1982), Ch. 1 : Power-Over and Power-From-WIthin, p. 13

Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919), Resignation

A Joy for Ever, note 6 (1857).
Context: For certainly it is excellent discipline for an author to feel that he must say all he has to say in the fewest possible words, or his reader is sure to skip them; and in the plainest possible words, or his reader will certainly misunderstand them.