To A Friend - On The Banks Of The Derwent

Pastor and Patriot!—at whose bidding rise These modest walls, amid a flock that need, For one who comes to watch them and to feed, A fixed Abode—keep down presageful sighs. Threats, which the unthinking only can despise, Perplex the Church; but be thou firm,—be true To thy first hope, and this good work pursue, Poor as thou art. A welcome sacrifice Dost Thou prepare, whose sign will be the smoke Of thy new hearth; and sooner shall its wreaths, Mounting while earth her morning incense breathes, From wandering fiends of air receive a yoke, And straightway cease to aspire, than God disdain This humble tribute as ill-timed or vain.