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SONGS OF COMRADES.
Were you not real of old, then ?
He whom I knew as Frank
Could not have sunk so deeply,
Could not have grown so rank.
Was it the deadly nightshade,
Worn as my boyhood's flower ?
Was I a dreamer dreaming,
Held in a falsehood's power ?
Is there a sun in heaven ?
Is there a God on high ?
All my old world is shattered ;
Brother, good-bye, good-bye.
iii.
Frank, I have heard the story,
Pitiful, strange, and sweet ;
All that you would not tell me-
All of your grand defeat.
