As Hears round about him voices as it darkens, And seeing not the forms from which they come, Pauses from time to time, and turns and hearkens ; So walking here in twilight, O my friends! I hear your voices, softened by the distance, If any thought of mine, or sung or told, Thanks for the sympathies that ye have shown! That teaches me, when seeming most alone, Friends are around us, though no word be spoken. A Kind messages, that pass from land to land; One touch of fire,- and all the rest is mystery! The pleasant books, that silently among Our household treasures take familiar places, 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! Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations. Therefore I hope to join your seaside walk, 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! Longfellow. To the curious eye A little monitor presents her page Of choice instruction with her snowy bells, The public walk, nor gaze of mid-day sun : But silent and alone puts on her suit, And sheds a lasting perfume, but for which Still shelter'd and secure. And as the storm, That makes the high elm couch, and rends the oak, The humble lily spares, a thousand blows |