To John J. Knickerbocker, Jr.

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Whereas, good friend, it doth appear
  You do possess the notion
  To his awhile away from here
  To lands across the ocean;
  Now, by these presents we would show
  That, wheresoever wend you,
  And wheresoever gales may blow,
  Our friendship shall attend you.

  What though on Scotia's banks and braes
  You pluck the bonnie gowan,
  Or chat of old Chicago days
  O'er Berlin brew with Cowen;
  What though you stroll some boulevard
  In Paris (c'est la belle ville!),
  Or make the round of Scotland Yard
  With our lamented Melville?

  Shall paltry leagues of foaming brine
  True heart from true hearts sever?
  No--in this draught of honest wine
  We pledge it, comrade--never!
  Though mountain waves between us roll,
  Come fortune or disaster--
  'Twill knit us closer soul to soul
  And bind our friendships faster.

  So here's a bowl that shall be quaff'd
  To loyalty's devotion,
  And here's to fortune that shall waft
  Your ship across the ocean,
  And here's a smile for those who prate
  Of Davy Jones's locker,
  And here's a pray'r in every fate--
  God bless you, Knickerbocker!

© Eugene Field