With love not even he could wake,
Save in his fatherland,
We reach a Yankee grasp, and take
Hosea by the hand.
With smiles of praise, that need must throng
With sympathizing tears,
We greet our prince of prose and song,
In his maturer years;
For words that made a shining track,
Beyond the Atlantic foam,
We lift our hearts, and welcome back
Our statesman to his home.