Well won and glorious trophies have been thine,
Macaulay, since we two 'together stray'd'
(As young bards sing) 'in Granta's tranquil shade;'
Now far divided by the ocean brine:
And thou, already a bright star, dost shine
Among our statesmen; yet fame hath not made
Thy young simplicity of heart to fade,
Nor is thy sympathy less warmly mine.
Therefore I trust that, in no distant time,
Thy oriental toils and duties o'er,
Thou shalt revisit this our native clime,
Strengthen'd in soul through that bereavement sore,
For which, of late, my gift of plaintive rhyme
Such welcome solace on thy grief did pour.