Classic Poem

Tossed on the stormy waves of time,
By sternest cares oppressed,
I sought and found in Northern clime
A holy place of rest.

Blessed, thrice blessed be this spot,
Abiding place of peace, —
May trouble's hand pollute it not,
And only joys increase.

And you, fair Annie, may your days
Be fraught with joy and lightness;
May thornless flowers bestrew your ways,
And all your hours be brightness.