“What grief, dear friend, hath made thy heart its prey—
That thou shouldst turn thee from our love away?
“It is too sad to see thee thus, my friend!
Mark’st thou the wonder on thy boy’s fair brow,
Missing the smile from thine? Oh, cheer thee! bend
To his soft arms: unseal thy thoughts e’en now!
Thou dost not kindly to withhold the share
Of tried affection in thy secret care.”
He look’d up into that sweet earnest face,
But sternly, mournfully: not yet the band