To G. B. R.

How merry sings the aftermath,
With crickets fifing in the dew!
The home-sweet sounds, the scene, the hour,
I consecrate to you.

All this you knew and loved with me;
All this in our delight had part;
And now — though us earth sees no more
As comrades, heart to heart —

This kindly strength of open fields,
This faith of eve, this calm of air,
They lift my spirit close to you
In memory and prayer.
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