Brother in song, you who have gone before Along far incommunicable ways, Leaving me here upon this mortal shore, A bondman to the tyrant nights and days, Across the distance, hail! Though Time may sever, and we meet no more, Yet what shall Time avail! ’Twas Autumn when we first set hand to hand, And eye to eye, in loyal comradeship; Drowsed with a draught of Beauty seemed the land, As it had raised a golden cup to lip; But you embodied Spring, Its harvest hopes, its deeds in joyance planned, Its brave adventuring.…
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