Sonnet to My Friend, G. L.
TO MY FRIEND, G. L.
How the least remnant of the vanished great,
The slightest relic of departed power,
Speaks to the heart of Time, and Change, and Fate —
And of all things that may outlive their hour!
And this — a portion of what once was spread
O'er the cold ashes of Napoleon —
Speaks to me with a voice as from the dead,
Of might departed, and of glory gone!
For his sake, valued friend, and not alone
For his, but thine — I'll carefully preserve
The melancholy treasure now mine own;
Since it a two-fold purpose still will serve —
And while it minds me of the great departed,
'Twill tell me too, of Thee — the firm and cordial-hearted!
How the least remnant of the vanished great,
The slightest relic of departed power,
Speaks to the heart of Time, and Change, and Fate —
And of all things that may outlive their hour!
And this — a portion of what once was spread
O'er the cold ashes of Napoleon —
Speaks to me with a voice as from the dead,
Of might departed, and of glory gone!
For his sake, valued friend, and not alone
For his, but thine — I'll carefully preserve
The melancholy treasure now mine own;
Since it a two-fold purpose still will serve —
And while it minds me of the great departed,
'Twill tell me too, of Thee — the firm and cordial-hearted!
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