Classic Poem

Book , now that thou art fain to go
To brave the critic's gibe or blow,
And seek if haply thou may'st find
A smile of welcome, cordial, kind —
One word, but one, before we part,
And hold it, prithee, fast at heart.

If so it chance that thou shouldst meet
No friendly glance in stall or street,
Despair not, nor with fate demur;
For when the tender eyes of her
Lean o'er thee, thou wilt wish than this
No other meed of praise or bliss.