Ho! Friends and enemies of Pennyfields,
A feast is spread, and you are all invited.
Many tides have risen and retired
Since I left the fervid skies of my own country
For the thin skies and leaden streets of the West.
Long have I sojourned, seeking my desire,
Keeping my shop, and looking always with long eyes
At others’ guesting-tables, at whose top sat love.
From my cold corner
I have watched their feast of fondness, and my heart has flown away,
And has beaten like a lost bird at their windows,
And none would let him in.
But now, O honourables,
My window is alight, my room is warmed,
The table is set and the places are laid, and Love waits to greet you.