To A Dead Classmate

He started on the left road and I went on the

right,

We were young and strong and the way was long

and we travelled day an' night;

And O the haste and O the waste! and the rush

of the busy throng!

The worried eye, and the quick good-bye, and

the need to hurry along!

Odd times we met on the main highway and told

our hopes and fears,

And after every parting came a wider flood of

years.

I love to tell of the last farewell, and this is the way

it ran:

"I don't know when I'll see you again—take care

of yourself, ol' man."

Put the Beta pin upon his breast, with rosemary

and rue,

The cap and gown, the scarlet and brown and the

symbol of '82,

And lay him low with a simple word as the loving

eye grows dim:

"He took care of more than his share—O Christ!

take care of him."

The snow is falling on the head and aye the heart

grows cold;

The new friend comes to claim a share of that we

gave the old,

And men forget while the eye is wet and bend to

the lug of the load,

And whether or when they will meet you again is

ever a chance of the road.

The babes are boys, the boys are men, and slowly,

year by year,

New faces throng the storied halls and old ones

disappear.

As the hair is grayed and the red lips fade let

friend be friend, for aye

We come and go and ere we know have spoken

a long good-bye.