An Address to the Pen

Communicated by Miss Beslee

All hail! thou kind soother of numberless woes,
Which in life’s early day, my companion I chose
Which to life’s latest gasp I shall ever regard
For its noblest exertions, the minds great reward:
Contracted indeed, without thee, were the fame
Attending the hero’s and patriot’s name,
Thy force, in mankind’s individual sphere
Friends, parents, and kindred, are bound to revere
Tho’ doomed e’en through life in our persons to sever
Th’intelligent mind, may find comfort for ever.
What is it can soften the parting of those
In whose bosoms the fondest affection e’er glows
What is it the kind-hearted lover can cheer
When torn from the object to him the most dear,
When oceans loud roaring, between them may roll
And as distant, perhaps as from her to the Pole
What in absence can cheer him again, and again
But hope’s welcome prop and preserver, the pen:
It enlivens a desert, gives vigour to health
And in poverty proves e’en a species of wealth,
It is, whether slowly or quickly time rolls
Th’indissolvable tie of congenial souls.