To my Friend, John Dickinson
TRUE-HEARIED Dickinson! can I forget
Thy warm, impetuous friendship, and how prone
Thou wert to solace me, when first we met,
And I was coinless, hopeless, and unknown?
No! for the generous feeling thou hast shown
To me, an humble minstrel, in my need,
My harp, with feeble but with faithful tone,
Shall tell thee that I cherish every deed.
Let me bear witness that thou hast, withal,
Though rudely earnest, an inquiring mind, —
Pity for human suffering and thrall,
And love for things exalted and refined.
May Heaven afford thee, to thy latest hour,
The joy of doing good, and ne'er deny the power!
Thy warm, impetuous friendship, and how prone
Thou wert to solace me, when first we met,
And I was coinless, hopeless, and unknown?
No! for the generous feeling thou hast shown
To me, an humble minstrel, in my need,
My harp, with feeble but with faithful tone,
Shall tell thee that I cherish every deed.
Let me bear witness that thou hast, withal,
Though rudely earnest, an inquiring mind, —
Pity for human suffering and thrall,
And love for things exalted and refined.
May Heaven afford thee, to thy latest hour,
The joy of doing good, and ne'er deny the power!
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