Classic Poem

I.

Farewell , O friend of other, brighter days!
My heart is lorn and sore
To think that I shall meet on life's highways
Thy pleasant face no more.

I can not realize that some fell blight
Has fallen on thee so soon;
That some grim shadow from the shores of night
Has darkened all thy noon.

I can not realize that thou hast learned
The secret Heaven conceals;
That thy unfettered spirit has discerned
What only death reveals.

Not many days ago we met, and said
Kind greetings as we past;
But, ah! I dreamed not, as their accents sped,
Those words would be our last.

II.

We look on thy pale brow and silent lips,
We feel thy pulseless heart,
Behold thy sealed eyes in dark eclipse,
And wonder where thou art.

Not here; nay, in the world of living men,
That breathe, and feel, and move,
Thou may'st be nevermore as thou hast been.
Alas, for life and love!

When I recall the promise of thy prime,
Thine aspirations high,
I weep and say, alas, it was not time
But God, He knoweth why.

He comprehends the darkness that surrounds
Our feeble human sight:
He understands the mystery that confounds
Our sense of wrong and right.

Farewell, O friend of other, brighter years!
My heart for thee is sore;
I can but give the tribute of my tears —
Would I could give thee more.

Would I could well portray thy genial heart,
Warm, tender, generous, just;
Thy soul, that scorned dissimulation's art,
Faithful to every trust.

Many will miss thee, as their tears attest,
And mourn thy friendship lost,
And those that knew thee longest, knew thee best,
Will miss and mourn thee most.

But in the pleasant home where death has riven
The holiest ties apart,
Not all the pitying souls in earth or Heaven
Can heal love's bleeding heart.