To Sir Walter Scott. On Accidently Meeting And Parting With Sir Walter Scott, Whom I Had Not Seen For Many Years, In The Streets Of London, May 1828.

TO SIR WALTER SCOTT.

ON ACCIDENTLY MEETING AND PARTING WITH SIR WALTER SCOTT, WHOM I HAD NOT SEEN FOR MANY YEARS, IN THE STREETS OF LONDON, MAY 1828.

Since last I saw that countenance so mild, Slow-stealing age, and a faint line of care, Had gently touched, methought, some features there; Yet looked the man as placid as a child, And the same voice, — whilst mingled with the throng, Unknowing, and unknown, we passed along, — That voice, a share of the brief time beguiled! That voice I ne'er may hear again, I sighed At parting, — wheresoe'er our various way, In this great world, — but from the banks of Tweed, As slowly sink the shades of eventide, Oh! I shall hear the music of his reed, Far off, and thinking of that voice, shall say, A blessing rest upon thy locks of gray!