Classic Poem

Glide gently down thy native stream,
And swell thy snowy sail
Before fair April's morning beam,
And newly waken'd gale.

Thine onward course in safety keep,
By favouring breezes fann'd,
Along the billows of the deep
To Mersey's distant strand.

Thou bearest no such noble name
As all who read may know;
But one at least that well may claim
The blessing I bestow.

That name was given to honour me
By those with whom I dwell;
And cold indeed my heart would be
Did I not speed thee well.

Not all the glory those acquire,
Who far for glory roam,
Can match the humble heart's desire
For love fulfill'd at home.