Classic Poem

BY JAMES B. MARSHALL .

Touch gently with thy taper finger,
The string of some lov'd lute, —
The cherish'd sound will with thee linger,
E'en when the string is mute.
And thus I 'd have thy thoughts recur,
When far away from thee,
To him who leaves a tribute here
For friendship's memory.

Over the azure sky above,
Clouds sweep in caravans,
But still the star we watch and love,
In memory remains;
And even through their dusky forms,
O'ershadowing earth and sea,
As fiercely driv'n by winter-storms,
That star is bright to me.

Go grave thy name upon the stone
O'er which the brooklet hies,
And though with moss it be o'ergrown,
And hid to duller eyes,
Yet from the eye of love that name
Can never be effaced, —
Time-covered, 't will as plainly seem
As though but newly traced.

When starry night doth wane away
Beneath the sun's gay gleam,
Do we forget the moon's pale ray,
Lost in a gaudier beam?
Oh with the stars, I 'd have thee keep
My friendship's memory,
And when I gaze on heaven's blue deep,
I 'll fondly think of thee.