Chapter 22 of 24 · 225 words · ~1 min read

XI.

Now scattered wide and lost to loving sight The gallant train That heard thy strain; ’Tis May no longer,—shadows of the night Beset the downward pathway; thou art gone, And with thee vanished that perpetual dawn Of which thou wert the harbinger and seer. Yet courage! comrades,—though no more we hear Each other’s voices, lost within this cloud That time and chance about our way have cast, Still his brave music haunts the hearkening ear, As ’mid bold cliffs and dewy passes of the Past. Be that our countersign! for chanting loud His magic song, though far apart we go, Best shall we thus discern both friend and foe.

[Illustration: BRIDGE AT CONCORD.]

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