And art thou likewise gone away,
Companion of my early day?
To the first friend my bosom knew
Already must I bid adieu?
A vicious world's polluted air,
Heav'n saw thee much too good to bear,
And took thee to a purer sky,
To flourish in thy Maker's eye.
The worth in thee so early found,
With merited reward it crown'd:
So soon of goodness thou possest,
It but remain'd to make thee blest.