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SONGS OF COMRADES.
I send the ring by a trusty hand,
For they say I must die, must die.
" Do not be broken-hearted,
Lover so true, so dear ;
The pain is nothing, — I think of you,
And I know that you fain were here.
" But you must hold your post, dear,
Must not be ruined for me ;
Before my letter can reach you, love,
I shall see you across the sea.
" Only a little while, dear,
You will be free, be free !
We two shall meet on the golden street,
In the city that knows no sea.
Love, true love !
Be happy, not sad, for me."
The letter dropt from his palsied hand,
Two men lay stretched on the shifting strand ;
Like brothers lav. in a. close embrace.
