Go forth, thou little volume,
I leave thee to thy fate!

To those who read thee faithfully
Thy leaves I dedicate.

But if your fate should be so sad
As mine who thee have writ,

I'd be so vexed to think that I
Had made such a poor "hit."

But if by chance you meet a friend
Along life's road so dreary,

Just cheer his mind till he is blind,
And never make him weary.

Teach him the way, the live-long day,
To lend a helping hand,

And never turn or even spurn
Those wrecked on life's hard strand.

If chance should be you return to me,
Along with harvest's golden,

I'll vouch for thee to all who see,
That thou wilt not embolden.

And now go forth, thou little book,
I leave thee to thy fate!

To those who read thee faithfully
Thy leaves I dedicate.