To Sir Walter Scott

ON ACCIDENTALLY MEETING SIR WALTER SCOTT IN LONDON, MAY 1828. 

Since last I saw that countenance so mild, 
Slow-stealing age, and a faint line of care, 
Had gently touched, methought, some features there; 
Yet looked the man as placid as a child, 
And the same voice, — whilst mingled with the throng, 
Unknowing, and unknown, we passed along, — 
That voice, a share of the brief time beguiled! 
That voice I ne'er may hear again, I sighed 
At parting, — wheresoe'er our various way, 
In this great world, — but from the banks of Tweed, 
As slowly sink the shades of eventide, 
Oh! I shall hear the music of his reed, 
Far off, and thinking of that voice, shall say, 
A blessing rest upon thy locks of grey!