Yet take my thanks for thousand favours past—
My wishes that your welfare long may last—
My promise that, though Time upon this face
May make his annual marks, no time can chase
Your memory here, while memory here has place.
My meaning is sincere, though plainly spoke—
My heart, like yours, I hope, is heart of oak;
And that although the bark, through years, may fail ye,
The trunk was, is, and will be true shillaly.