Alone, obscure, without a friend, <br />A cheerless, solitary thing, <br />Why seeks, my Lloyd, the stranger out? <br />What offering can the stranger bring <br /> <br /> <br />Of social scenes, home-bred delights, <br />That him in aught compensate may <br />For Stowey's pleasant winter nights, <br />For loves and friendships far away? <br /> <br /> <br />In brief oblivion to forego <br />Friends, such as thine, so justly dear, <br />And be awhile with me content <br />To stay, a kindly loiterer, here: <br /> <br /> <br />For this a gleam of random joy <br />Hath flush'd my unaccustom'd cheek; <br />And, with an o'er-charg'd bursting heart, <br />I feel the thanks I cannot speak. <br /> <br /> <br />Oh! sweet are all the Muses' lays, <br />And sweet the charm of matin bird; <br />'Twas long since these estranged ears <br />The sweeter voice of friend had heard. <br /> <br /> <br />The voice hath spoke: the pleasant sounds <br />In memory's ear in after time <br />Shall live, to sometimes rouse a tear, <br />And sometimes prompt an honest rhyme. <br /> <br /> <br />For, when the transient charm is fled, <br />And when the little week is o'er, <br />To cheerless, friendless, solitude <br />When I return, as heretofore, <br /> <br /> <br />Long, long, within my aching heart <br />The grateful sense shall cherish'd be; <br />I'll think less meanly of myself, <br />That Lloyd will sometimes think on me.<br /><br />Charles Lamb<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-charles-lloyd-an-unexpected-visitor/
