149
SONNET.
TO MY BROTHER, W. S. R.
Written on the eve of my Marriage.
In leaving thee, my brother! tears will send
Their faithful tribute forth—and though I go
To one who shares my joy, and soothes my woe,
With the fond names of lover and of friend,
Yet slowly will my footsteps from thee wend,
Playmate of infancy, and guide of youth,
Example bright of honour, virtue, truth,
And all pure goodness that the soul can blend.
In leaving thee, thy lonely hour to cheer,
Oh! let remembrance on past loudness muse,
When we together brushed the evening dews,
Or smiling paused, the woodland choir to hear:
Or all the goodness later life has proved,
Living with thee, still loving and beloved!
Their faithful tribute forth—and though I go
To one who shares my joy, and soothes my woe,
With the fond names of lover and of friend,
Yet slowly will my footsteps from thee wend,
Playmate of infancy, and guide of youth,
Example bright of honour, virtue, truth,
And all pure goodness that the soul can blend.
In leaving thee, thy lonely hour to cheer,
Oh! let remembrance on past loudness muse,
When we together brushed the evening dews,
Or smiling paused, the woodland choir to hear:
Or all the goodness later life has proved,
Living with thee, still loving and beloved!
