When soldiers die and kings depart And statesmen pass away, And men of gold in bank and mart Return to common clay, Our laurel wreaths we proudly bring, Our panegyrics blend; But ah, it is a sadder thing When we have lost a friend! When artists lay their palettes down, And singers mutely rest; When builders of a mighty town Lie in a narrow chest, We praise their genius towering tall, Their godlike works commend; But ah, the human tears that fall When we have lost a friend! Too deep for shallow-sounding phrase, Too full for formal bound, Our memories bloom where'er we gaze, And live in every sound. We cannot speak our aching loss, Nor even comprehend; But every byway has a cross When we have lost a friend. A friend is such a blessed boon, To comfort and to cheer; December glows with light of June When any friend is near; And want is plenty, sickness health, And longest sorrows end, When we have found earth's rarest wealth, When we have found a friend. And such was he, this friendly man, This man of sunny mood, Of happiness the artisan, The prince of brotherhood! Oh, heaven is a cheery place Where such as he ascend; Let us go on a little space And we shall find our friend. |