Classic Poem

You remember—don 't you, brother—
In our early years,
The counsels of our poor, dear mother,
And her hopes and fears?
She told us to love one another—
Brother, dry your tears!

We are only two, dear brother,
In this babel wide!
In the churchyard sleeps poor mother,
BYour father's side!—
Then let us cherish one another
Till in death we bide.