(8 September 1940 / Brooklyn, New York)

To A Friend Lost (Tom Taylor)

When I remember, friend, whom lost I call,
Because a man beloved is taken hence,
The tender humour and the fire of sense
In your good eyes; how full of heart for all,
And chiefly for the weaker by the wall,
You bore that lamp of sane benevolence;
Then see I round you Death his shadows dense
Divide, and at your feet his emblems fall.
For surely are you one with the white host,
Spirits, whose memory is our vital air,
Through the great love of Earth they had: lo, these,
Like beams that throw the path on tossing seas,
Can bid us feel we keep them in the ghost,
Partakers of a strife they joyed to share.

by George Meredith

Comments (22)

no homooooooiooooo o
boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy whats coveing his middle part
i really like hwne he siad the n word cuz thats racist
10 out of 10 chadness
So funny. I appreciate it.
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