TO JOHN J. KNICKERBOCKER, JR.

Whereas, good friend, it doth appear

You do possess the notion

To his awhile away from here

To lands across the ocean;

Now, by these presents we would show

That, wheresoever wend you,

And wheresoever gales may blow,

Our friendship shall attend you.

What though on Scotia's banks and braes

You pluck the bonnie gowan,

Or chat of old Chicago days

O'er Berlin brew with Cowen;

What though you stroll some boulevard

In Paris ( c'est la belle ville! ),

Or make the round of Scotland Yard

With our lamented Melville?

Shall paltry leagues of foaming brine

True heart from true hearts sever?

No — in this draught of honest wine

We pledge it, comrade — never!

Though mountain waves between us roll,

Come fortune or disaster —

‘ Twill knit us closer soul to soul

And bind our friendships faster.

So here's a bowl that shall be quaff'd

To loyalty's devotion,

And here's to fortune that shall waft

Your ship across the ocean,

And here's a smile for those who prate

Of Davy Jones's locker,

And here's a pray'r in every fate —

God bless you, Knickerbocker!