I.
Thou pet of modern art,
Since I the spell have broken,
Now on thy journey start,
And gather many a token
From many an honest heart,
The best or thought or spoken.
II.
Go forth, thou little book,
And seek that wondrous treasure,
Affection's word and look,
Which only heaven can measure.
III.
This Album comes a-tapping
At many a friendly door;
Yea, gently, gently rapping--
"Hast aught for me in store?
Dear Love and Truth I show,
To point a life's endeavor--
Thanks for thy heart! I go
And bear it on forever."
IV.
"Whose name was writ in water!"
It was not so of Keats.
How many a son and daughter
His gentle name repeats!
And Friendship and Affection
Will keep thy name as bright,
If Beauty give protection
And wed thee to the Right.
V.
So you desire my heart!
Well, take it--and depart.
It is not cold and heavy,
It is not light,
Seeks to be right,
And answers Beauty's levy.
VI.
Be it a fable or rumor,
Or an old device,
'Tis true; gentle wit and humor
Are as good as cold advice.
VII.
This dainty little Album thine
Is of a quality so fine
That happy Laughter here may write,
And all the pages still be white.
VIII.
There is no open mart
In which to sell a heart,
For none the price can pay;
So mine I give away,
Since I with it must part--
'Tis thine, my friend, for aye.
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