The Lover Pleads with His Friend for Old Friends

What tho', in bleak Northumbria's mines
His better part of life hath flown,
A planet's shone on him, and shines,
To Fortune's darlings seldom known;

And while his outer lot is grim,
His soul, with light and rapture fraught,
Oft will a carol trill, or hymn
In deeper tones the deeper thought.
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