Classic Poem

Some grateful trifle let me leave with you,
Dear Alsager, whose knock at evening fall,
And interchange of books, and kindness all,
Fresh neighbourhood about my prison threw,
And buds of solace that to friendship grew: —
Myself it is, who if your study wall
Has room, would find a nestling corner small,
To catch, at times, a cordial glance or two.

May peace be still found there, and evening leisure,
And that which gives a room both eye and heart,
The clear, warm fire, that clicks along the coal;
And never harsher sound, than the fine pleasure
Of lettered friend, or music's mingling art,
That fetches out in smiles the mutual soul.