McLarty, I can n't leave your house...

McLarty, I can n't leave your house,

Your darling daughter, charming spouse,

Without at least a single rhyme

Commemorating that sweet time

When I, with my beloved wife,

Shared your dear home, with comforts rife.

And now I backward cast my eye

O'er eight-and-twenty years, gone by,

Since first to you the land I sold

Which now you prize far more than gold.

Ah, then with trees‘ twas covered o'er

Thousands of which are now no more;

But in their stead rich, waving grain,

On hill and dale and pleasant plain

Abundant grows; and year by year

Adds comforts to your home so dear.

Fair trout creek still flows softly by,

Though not so pleasing to the eye,

As when at first its stream I saw,

So many, many years ago.

For then no logs unshapely, rude,

Did on that beauteous creek intrude;

But o'er its smooth and gravelly bed

It held its course, and murmur shed

Like sweetest music on my ear,

And made me long to live just here.

But urgent duty called me hence,

To scenes less pleasing to the sense

Of one who had a poet's eye

For Nature's works. I bade good bye

To what so quickly had become

To me almost as dear as home.

And now, kind friends, we must return

To that same home, while bosoms burn

With platitude for kindness shown

To those you had so little known.

We linger still:‘ tis hard to part

From you, when fondly heart to heart

Beats now, as if for years we'd been

Fast bound in friendship's bands serene.

God bless you all! we fervent pray,

And make you happier every day!

Should we in future meet no more,

O, may we all reach Canaan's shore.