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.