Classic Poem

O FRIEND , whom glad or grave we seek,
Heaven-holding shrine!
I ope thee, touch thee, hear thee speak,
And peace is mine
No fairy casket, full of bliss,
Out-values thee:
Love only, wakened with a kiss
More sweet may be

To thee, when our full hearts o'erflow
In griefs or joys,
Unspeakable emotions owe
A fitting voice:
Mirth flies to thee, and Love's unrest,
And Memory dear,
And Sorrow, with his tightened breast,
Comes for a tear.

Oh, since no joy of human mould
Thus waits us still,
Thrice blessed be thine, thou gentle fold
Of peace at will.
No change, no sullenness, no cheat,
In thee we find;
Thy saddest voice is ever sweet, —
Thine answer, kind.