DEDICATION. As one who, walking in the twilight gloom, And seeing not the forms from which they come, ens; So walking here in twilight, O my friends! His words of friendship, comfort, and assistance. If any thought of mine, or sung or told, Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shown! Friends are around us, though no word be Kind messages, that pass from land to land; In which we feel the pressure of a hand, and all the rest is mystery! The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, And are to us as if a living tongue Spake from the printed leaves or pictured faces ! Perhaps on earth I never shall behold, With eye of sense, your outward form and semblance; Therefore to me ye never will grow old, Never grow old, nor change, nor pass away! Your gentle voices will flow on for ever, When life grows bare and tarnished with decay, As through a leafless landscape flows a river. Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being oftentimes of different tongues and nations, But the endeavour for the selfsame ends, With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations. Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk, The grand, majestic symphonies of ocean. |