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　　TO CHARLES LLOYD

　　An Unexpected Visitor

　　(January, 1797. Text of 1818)

　　Alone, obscure, without a friend,

　　A cheerless, solitary thing,

　　Why seeks, my Lloyd, the stranger out?

　　What offering can the stranger bring

　　Of social scenes, home-bred delights,

　　That him in aught compensate may

　　For Stowey's pleasant winter nights,

　　For loves and friendships far away?

　　In brief oblivion to forego

　　Friends, such as thine, so justly dear,

　　And be awhile with me content

　　To stay, a kindly loiterer, here:

　　For this a gleam of random joy

　　Hath flush'd my unaccustom'd cheek;

　　And, with an o'er-charg'd bursting heart,

　　I feel the thanks I cannot speak.

　　Oh! sweet are all the Muses' lays,

　　And sweet the charm of matin bird;

　　'Twas long since these estranged ears

　　The sweeter voice of friend had heard.

　　The voice hath spoke: the pleasant sounds

　　In memory's ear in after time

　　Shall live, to sometimes rouse a tear,

　　And sometimes prompt an honest rhyme.

　　For, when the transient charm is fled,

　　And when the little week is o'er,

　　To cheerless, friendless, solitude

　　When I return, as heretofore,

　　Long, long, within my aching heart

　　The grateful sense shall cherish'd be;

　　I'll think less meanly of myself,

　　That Lloyd will sometimes think on me. The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4