TO THEE , dear friend, how many leagues away—
Beyond what fields of space, what breadths of sea!
Kept from our fireside circle long,—to thee
We fill the Christmas cup and drink to-day.
Whether in Tropic Isles thy feet may stray,
Pursuing Pleasure thro' her gay domain,
Till friends and Home and kindred o'er the main
No more the spells of Memory obey—
Or lying becalmed upon the burnished plain
Of Ocean vast, thou visitest again
In homesick dreams the Land that gave thee birth;
God keep thee ever in His watch and ward!
And leTour prayers, like an Angelic guard,
Companion thee, beloved, through the Earth.