 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
280
ARRIVAL AT NEW YORK.
Not with cold scorn, or ill-dissembled sneer,Ungraciously your kindly looks to greet,
By God's good favour safely wafted here,
O friends and brothers, face to face we meet:
Now, for a little space, my willing feet,
After long hope and promise many a year,
Shall tread your happy shores; my heart and voice
Your kindred love shall quicken and shall cheer;
While in your greatness shall my soul rejoice—
For you are England's nearest and most dear!
Suffer my simple fervours to do good,
As one poor pilgrim haply may and can,
Who, knit to heaven and earth by gratitude,
Speaks from his heart, to touch his brother man.
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |