Classic Poem

MY FRIEND AND CLASS-MATE

It was in the month of June,
And the woods were all atune;
All atune with bird-music sweet and rare;
And the flowers were all in bloom,
Shedding forth their rich perfume
On the breezy atmosphere everywhere,

When from " Normal Hill " were we
And its cloister-life let free,
Not a bit of sadness then our hearts did fill;
For with the soft, filmy haze
Of September's shortening days
We hoped to meet again on " Normal Hill. "

As adown the road we walked,
With free gayety we talked
Of blissful pleasures that would soon be ours,
Of picnics with dinners good,
Of wild rambles in the wood,
And of boatrides in the calm of evening hours.

I'm on " Normal Hill " to-day;
But, dear friend, you're still away.
I have ceased to hope to see you any more;
Till we meet in that high school
Where our Lord Himself shall rule,
Up in heaven on that shining, golden shore.

Little thought I, friend of mine,
You'd be called so soon to shine
In that galaxy of diadems up there;
But it was our Father's will,
And He speaks to-day " Be still, "
To my sad and sorrow-stricken heart down here.