Glide gently down thy native stream,

And give thy swelling sail

To April's bright and sunny beam,

And to its favouring gale.

In safety speed thine onward way,

By prosperous breezes fanned;

Breasting old Ocean's briny spray,

To Mersey's distant strand.

Thou bear’st no proud or lofty name,

Which all who read must know;

Yet for itssake thou well mayest claim

The verse I now bestow.

That name was given to honour me,

By those ‘mid whom I dwell,

And cold indeed my heart must be,

Could I disown its spell.

For all the homage fame can give

To those who for it roam,

That lowlier tribute should outlive,

Which comes, unasked, at home!

1843.