Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/114

106

But thou, my friend, my brother! Thou 'rt speeding to the shore Where the dirgelike tone of parting words Shall smite the soul no more! And thou wilt see our holy dead, The lost on earth and main; Into the sheaf of kindred hearts, Thou wilt be bound again!

Tell, then, our friend of boyhood, That yet his name is heard On the blue mountains, whence his youth Pass'd like a swift bright bird. The light of his exulting brow, The vision of his glee, Are on me still—Oh! still I trust That smile again to see.

And tell our fair young sister, The rose cut down in spring,