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, But live for ever young in my remembrance. 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 na tions, But the endeavor for the selfsame ends, With the same hopes and fears and aspirations. Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk, Saddened, and mostly silent, with emotion; Not interrupting with intrusive talk The grand, majestic symphonies of ocean. Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest, At your warm fireside, when the lamps are lighted, To have my place reserved among the rest, Nor stand as one unsought and uninvited! |