James Russell Lowell

* * *

  My friend, adown Life's valley, hand in hand,
  With grateful change of grave and merry speech
  Or song, our hearts unlocking each to each,
  We'll journey onward to the silent land;
  And when stern Death shall loose that loving band,
  Taking in his cold hand a hand of ours,
  The one shall strew the other's grave with flowers,
  Nor shall his heart a moment be unmanned.
  My friend and brother! if thou goest first,
  Wilt thou no more re-visit me below?
  Yea, when my heart seems happy, causelessly
  And swells, not dreaming why, as it would burst
  With joy unspeakable--my soul shall know
  That thou, unseen, art bending over me.