22
COMRADES.
They hollowed her a little grave
Within the cool, dark ground,
The woods and winds soft welcome gave
With many a murmuring sound.
The sighing pines and aspens low
Joined in her funeral hymn,
But they who brought her did not know—
Grief made their senses dim.
And though at first they vigil kept
When in the dark she fared,
They come no more—the fate they wept
Perchance they since have shared.
But there are other friends who stay
Beside her constantly,
And bear her in their humble way
Sweet, steadfast company.
