O friend! There is no way To bid farewell to thee! The words that we would say Above thy grave to-day Still falter and delay And fail us utterly.
When walking with us here, The hand we loved to press Was gentle, and sincere As thy frank eyes were clear Through every smile and tear Of pleasure and distress.
In years, young; yet in thought Mature; thy spirit, free, And fired with fervor caught Of thy proud sire, who fought His way to fame, and taught Its toilsome way to thee.
So even thou hast gained The victory God-given -- Yea, as our cheeks are stained With tears, and our souls pained And mute, thou hast attained Thy high reward in Heaven!
End of title
Sign in to unlock this title
Sign in to continue reading, it's free! As an unregistered user you can only read a little bit.