Classic Poem

Will Friendship's voice be welcome in that clime—
That distant clime, to which thy bark now flies—
Will this sincere and unaffected rhyme,
Kindle one spark of gladness in thine eyes?
Will the verse whisper to thy generous mind
Of thine own land—of home's serene delights—
Of hearts that fate now bids thee leave behind—
Of older, dearer friends than him who writes?
We need not doubt thee, Stringer ! yet a lay,
However lowly, to a Troubadour,
A brother minstrel, wandering far away,
May give soft pleasure in some lonely hour.
Make his heart calmly pensive, if not gay,
And throw fond Memory's light around his bower.