WHENE'ER thy wandering footstep bends <br />Its pathway to the Hermit tree, <br />Among its cordial band of friends, <br />Sweet Mary! wilt thou number me? <br /> <br />Though all too few the hours have roll'd <br />That saw the stranger linger here, <br />In memory's volume let them hold <br />One little spot to friendship dear. <br /> <br />I oft have thought how sweet 'twould be <br />To steal the bird of Eden's art; <br />And leave behind a trace of me <br />On every kind and friendly heart, <br /> <br />And like the breeze in fragrance rolled, <br />To gather as I wander by, <br />From every soul of kindred mould, <br />Some touch of cordial sympathy. <br /> <br />'Tis the best charm in life's dull dream, <br />To feel that yet there linger here <br />Bright eyes that look with fond esteem, <br />And feeling hearts that hold me dear.<br /><br />Joseph Rodman Drake<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lines-written-on-leaving-new-rochelle/
