When he reached London in 1846, after his long pilgrimage, and when so reduced in funds and friends, he yet had the time and mind to write of her these graceful rhymes:—
“I’ve wandered through the golden lands
Where art and beauty blended shine—
Where features limned by painters’ hands
Beam from the canvas made divine,
And many a god in marble stands,
With soul in every breathing line;
And forms the world has treasured long
Within me touched the world of song.”