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BROTHERS.
I STAND outside the Abbey where we stood
Singing our parts.
'Twas early morning, and our life was good,
So young our hearts !
Lonely upon the wall one shadow falls —
Mine, all alone ;
Broken, my voice, all inharmonious, calls
Its other tone.
The city crowd goes past me, rushing by,
With far-off roar ;
Beside my feet the quiet gravestones lie,
Unseen before.
The windows, all a glory from within,
Are dull without ;
A vision as of death in pain and sin
Doth glide about.
