THE STUDENT.
85
With them for evermore. He sadly thought
Of his sweet sister, with her golden hair
Streaming and waving on the morning wind—
His bold young brother sporting at his side,
With a free shout, as joyous as the sound
Of bright, glad waters, leaping to the sheen
Of early Spring—his mother's gentle kiss,
Her sad, sweet smile, her holy words of love—
His gray-haired father's fervent blessing, breathed
With quivering lip, at the last parting hour,
When his own tears fell like the Summer rain—
And her, the dearer still, whose soft, blue eye,
Through dark and gloomy years, had been to him
The day-star of his being. Ay, he thought
Of these, all sleeping in the church-yard now,
And 'mid his mournful musings he forgot
The world, his many triumphs, and his wild
And maddening love of fame, that in the dim
And distant future might make melody,
Dear melody for his now lonely ear;
And then he bowed his strong and lofty heart,
Of his sweet sister, with her golden hair
Streaming and waving on the morning wind—
His bold young brother sporting at his side,
With a free shout, as joyous as the sound
Of bright, glad waters, leaping to the sheen
Of early Spring—his mother's gentle kiss,
Her sad, sweet smile, her holy words of love—
His gray-haired father's fervent blessing, breathed
With quivering lip, at the last parting hour,
When his own tears fell like the Summer rain—
And her, the dearer still, whose soft, blue eye,
Through dark and gloomy years, had been to him
The day-star of his being. Ay, he thought
Of these, all sleeping in the church-yard now,
And 'mid his mournful musings he forgot
The world, his many triumphs, and his wild
And maddening love of fame, that in the dim
And distant future might make melody,
Dear melody for his now lonely ear;
And then he bowed his strong and lofty heart,
