Soul-breathing verse, thy gentlest guise put on
And greet the honor'd name of Robinson.
Rome in her throng'd and stranger-crowded streets,
And palaces, where pilgrim pilgrim meets,
Holds not, respected Sarah, one that can

Revered make the name of Englishman,
Or loved, more than thy Kinsman, dear to me
By many a friendly act. His heart I see
In thee with answering courtesy renew'd.
Nor shall to thee my debt of gratitude
Soon fade, that didst receive with open hand
One that was come a stranger to thy land —
Now call[s] thee Friend. Her thanks, and mine, command.