Classic Poem

I NUMBER you by thousands, unseen friends,
And dearly precious is your love to me;
Yea, what a goodly company ye be!
For as the noble brotherhood extends
Of Saxon hearts and tongues o'er land and sea:
How rich am I in love!—the sweet amends
For all whatever little else of pain
Some few unkindly cause; most rich in love,
From mine own home to earth's remotest ends:
Let me then count my store, my glorious gain.
This wealth, that my poor merit far transcends,
Your loving kindness, echoing from above
The highest blessing on my works and ways,
?? a???e a?agr;?e, my Father's praise:

Yea, let me thank you; let my heart outpour
Unbidden notes of honest gratitude
To all whose yearnings follow me with good,
Loving my mind and all its humble store:
O, generous friends!—a cordial multitude
Hived in the West, upon that busy shore
Where fair Columbia, Britain's child, is throned
Imperial, yet with empire all unowned:
O, generous friends!—another cordial band
From far Australia to the Arctic seas,
And crowds around me in my own dear land—
How, how to thank for mercies rich as these?
Lo, let me stand and bless from East to West,
From North to South, because I thus am blest!

Ay: blest indeed above the lot of men,
And rich in joys that reach the true sublime!
For that the magic-music of my pen
Hath won such wealth of love in every clime,
And still shall win such treasure for all time,
Therefore my soul is glad: judge me, my friends,
Is not the poet wealthier in his joys
Than Attalus with all his golden toys?
And, as his growing dynasty extends
To children's children, reigning in the mind,
Is he not great, a monarch of his kind?
Ah me! not so: this thought of pride destroys:
Give God the praise: His blessings send this store
Of unseen friends by thousands evermore!