LXXII.
And thou indeed hadst perish’d, my soul’s friend!
I might form other ties—but thou alone
Couldst with a glance the veil of dimness rend,
By other years o’er boyhood’s memory thrown!
Others might aid me onward: thou and I
Had mingled the fresh thoughts that early die,
Once flowering—never more! And thou wert gone!
Who could give back my youth, my spirit free,
Or be in aught again what thou hadst been to me?