Poem by Charles Lamb

Lines Addressed to Lieut. R.W.H. Hardy, R.N.

'Tis pleasant, lolling in our elbow-chair,
Secure at home, to read descriptions rare
Of venturous traveller in savage climes;
His hair-breadth 'scapes, toil, hunger—and sometimes
The merrier passages that, like a foil
To set off perils past, sweetened that toil,
And took the edge from danger; and I look
With such fear-mingled pleasure through thy book,
Adventurous Hardy! Thou a diver art,
But of no common form; and, for thy part
Of the adventure, hast brought home to the nation
Pearls of discovery—jewels of observation. 

1. A Timid Grace Sits Trembling in Her Eye
2. Incorrect Speaking
3. Blindness
4. Written Christmas Day 1797
5. Home Delights

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