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SONGS OF THE AFFECTIONS.
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,
