The well-loved board _he_ loved so well,
His pride, his care, his ceaseless thought;
To him with life-long memories fraught;
For him invested with the spell
O'er a glad present ever cast
By solemn shadows of the past.
That past for him, indeed, was filled
With a proud spirit-retinue.
Greatness long since his guest he knew.
Whom THACKERAY's manly tones had thrilled;
Who heard keen JERROLD's sparkling speech,
And marked the genial grace of LEECH.
What changes had he known, who sat
With our four chiefs, of each fast friend!
And must such _camaraderie_ end?
Shall friendly counsel, cordial chat,
Come nevermore again to us
From lips with kindness tremulous?
No more shall those blue eyes ray out
Swift sympathy, or sudden mirth;
That ever mobile mouth give birth
To frolic whim, or friendly flout?
Our hearts will miss thee to the end,
Amphitryon generous, faithful friend!
Miss thee? Alas! the void that's there
No other form may hope to fill,
For those who now with sorrow thrill
In gazing on that vacant chair;
Whither it seems he _must_ return,
For whose warm hand-clasp yet we yearn.
Tribute to genius all may give,
Ours is the homage of the heart;
For a friend lost our tears will start,
Lost to our sight, yet who shall live,
Whilst one who knew that bold frank face
At the old board takes the old place.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25