Nor bathe his parch’d lips in the hour of pain,
Nor say to him, “Farewell!” He pass’d away—
Oh! had my love been there, its conquering sway
Had won him back from death! But thus removed,
Borne o’er th’ abyss no sounding line hath proved,
Join’d with the unknown, the viewless—he became
Unto my thoughts another, yet the same—
Changed—hallow’d—glorified!—and his low grave
Seem’d a bright mournful altar—mine, all mine:
Brother and friend soon left me that sole shrine,