X.

My friend, adown Life's valley, hand in hand, With grateful change of grave and merry speech Or song, our hearts unlocking each to each, We'll journey onward to the silent land; And when stern Death shall loose that loving band, Taking in his cold hand a hand of ours, The one shall strew the other's grave with flowers, Nor shall his heart a moment be unmanned. My friend and brother! if thou goest first, Wilt thou no more re-visit me below? Yea, when my heart seems happy, causelessly And swells, not dreaming why, as it would burst With joy unspeakable--my soul shall know That thou, unseen, art bending over me.