It is the precious province of true thought–
Of the divine creations of the mind–
To live unwearied in a heart overwrought
By busy intercourse with town–Mankind:
Poor merchant I! whom the dull world’s trade-wind
Blows ever onward on a steady sea,
Feel oftentimes, mid murkiest men, refined
By visitants that come alone to me.
Perchance I class not with the worldly wise;
But mine is not the spirit that avoids,
Mid temporal dealings, these communions strange,
Albeit “disgracious to the city’s eyes,”
Often I meet rare Trinculo at Lloyd’s!
And Hamlet sweetly walks with me on ‘Change!
(John Hamilton Reynolds)
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