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Charles Lamb - To Charles Lloyd: An Unexpected Visitor
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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.
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