I

All the flowers were in their pride
On the day when Rupert died.

Dreamily, through dozing trees,
Sighed the idle summer breeze.

Wild birds, glancing in the air,
Spilled their music everywhere.

Not one sign of mortal ill
Told that his great heart was still.

Now the grass he loved to tread
Murmurs softly o'er his head:

Now the great green branches wave
High above his lonely grave:

While, in grief's perpetual speech,
Roll the breakers on the beach.

Oh, my comrade, oh, my friend,
Must this parting be the end?

II
Weave the shroud and spread the pall!
Night and silence cover all.

Howsoever we deplore,
They who go return no more.

Never from that unknown track
Floats one answering whisper back.

Nature, vacant, will not heed
Lips that grieve or hearts that bleed.

Wherefore now should mourning word
Or the tearful dirge be heard?

How shall words our grief abate? —
Call him noble; call him great;

Say that faith, now gaunt and grim,
Once was fair because of him;

Say that goodness, round his way,
Made one everlasting day;

Say that beauty's heavenly flame
Bourgeoned wheresoe'er he came;

Say that all life's common ways
Were made glorious in his gaze;

Say he gave us, hour by hour,
Hope and patience, grace and power;

Say his spirit was so true
That it made us noble, too; —

What is this, but to declare
Love's bereavement and despair?

What is this, but just to say
All we loved is torn away?

Weave the shroud and spread the pall!
Night and silence cover all.

III

Oh, my comrade, oh, my friend,
Must this parting be the end?

Heart and hope are growing old:
Dark the night comes down, and cold:

Few the souls that answer mine,
And no voice so sweet as thine.

Desert wastes of care remain —
Yet thy lips speak not again!

Gray eternities of space —
Yet nowhere thy living face!

Only now the lonesome blight,
Heavy day and haunted night.

All the light and music reft —
Only thought and memory left!

IV

Peace, fond mourner! This thy boon, —
Thou thyself must follow soon.

Peace, — and let repining go!
Peace, — for Fate will have it so.

Vainly now his praise is said:
Vain the garland for his head:

Yet is comfort's shadow cast
From the kindness of the past.

All my love could do to cheer
Warmed his heart when he was here.

Honor's plaudit, Friendship's vow
Did not coldly wait till now.

Oh, my comrade, oh, my friend,
If this parting be the end,

Yet I hold my life divine,
To have known a soul like thine:

And I hush the low lament
In submission, penitent.

Still the sun is in the skies:
He sets — but I have seen him rise!