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Thy dying brother trod.—Say, didst thou love That lost one well?

Enonio.Know'st thou not we grew up Even as twin roes amidst the wilderness? Unto the chase we journeyed in one path; We stemmed the lake in one canoe; we lay Beneath one oak to rest.—When fever hung Upon my burning lips, my brother's hand Was still beneath my head; my brother's robe Covered my bosom from the chill night air. Our lives were girdled by one belt of love, Until he turned him from his fathers' gods, And then my soul fell from him—then the grass Grew in the way between our parted homes, And wheresoe'er I wandered, then it seemed That all the woods were silent.—I went forth— I journeyed, with my lonely heart, afar, And so returned—and where was he?—the earth Owned him no more.

Herrmann.But thou thyself, since then,