An Autograph.[Written for an old friend, Rev. S. H. Emery, of Quincy III., who revisited Whittier in 1868.] The years that since we met have flown
Leave as they found me, still alone: 
No wife, nor child, nor grandchild dear,
Are mine the heart of age to cheer.
More favored thou, with hair less gray
Than mine, canst let thy fancy stray
To where thy little Constance sees
The prairie ripple in the breeze;
For one like her to lisp thy name
Is better than the voice of fame.