POEMS.
69
LINES TO A FRIEND.
Dear friend, I love thee truly;
Ever may thy life abound
In every choicest blessing
On this earth to be found.
Then, friend, now and ever,
While I pen these lines to thee,
Thou wilt forget me never,
But oft remember me.
While I pen these lines to thee,
Thou wilt forget me never,
But oft remember me.
And when I lie sleeping,
Hands clasped across my breast,
My heart no longer weeping,
Having found its quiet rest.
Hands clasped across my breast,
My heart no longer weeping,
Having found its quiet rest.
You'll read with eyes o'erflowing,
Tears from thy gentle eve
Will flow like rain in summer,
Breaking 'neath the darkened sky.
Tears from thy gentle eve
Will flow like rain in summer,
Breaking 'neath the darkened sky.
But soon the cloud will vanish,
And joy to you'll appear;
For you helped a soul in anguish,
When all was dark and drear.
And joy to you'll appear;
For you helped a soul in anguish,
When all was dark and drear.
