I.

Gone, O gentle heart and true,
 Friend of hopes foregone,
Hopes and hopeful days with you
 Gone?

 Days of old that shone
Saw what none shall see anew,
 When we gazed thereon.

Soul as clear as sunlit dew,
 Why so soon pass on,
Forth from all we loved and knew
 Gone?

II.

Friend of many a season fled,
 What may sorrow send
Toward thee now from lips that said
 'Friend'?

 Sighs and songs to blend
Praise with pain uncomforted
 Though the praise ascend?

Darkness hides no dearer head:
 Why should darkness end
Day so soon, O dear and dead
 Friend?

III.

Dear in death, thou hast thy part
 Yet in life, to cheer
Hearts that held thy gentle heart
 Dear.

 Time and chance may sear
Hope with grief, and death may part
 Hand from hand's clasp here:

Memory, blind with tears that start,
 Sees through every tear
All that made thee, as thou art,
 Dear.

IV.

True and tender, single-souled,
 What should memory do
Weeping o'er the trust we hold
 True?

 Known and loved of few,
But of these, though small their fold,
 Loved how well were you!

Change, that makes of new things old,
 Leaves one old thing new;
Love which promised truth, and told
 True.

V.

Kind as heaven, while earth's control
 Still had leave to bind
Thee, thy heart was toward man's whole
 Kind.

 Thee no shadows blind
Now: the change of hours that roll
 Leaves thy sleep behind.

Love, that hears thy death-bell toll
 Yet, may call to mind
Scarce a soul as thy sweet soul
 Kind.

VI.

How should life, O friend, forget
 Death, whose guest art thou?
Faith responds to love's regret,
 How?

 Still, for us that bow
Sorrowing, still, though life be set,
 Shines thy bright mild brow.

Yea, though death and thou be met,
 Love may find thee now
Still, albeit we know not yet
 How.

VII.

Past as music fades, that shone
 While its life might last;
As a song-bird's shadow flown
 Past!

 Death's reverberate blast
Now for music's lord has blown
 Whom thy love held fast.

Dead thy king, and void his throne:
 Yet for grief at last
Love makes music of his own
 Past.