"True, till death"

Through a mist of smiles and tears,
Doubts and fears, and toils and dreams,
Oh! how long ago it seems,
Looking back across the year
Silver threads are in my hair
And the sunset shadows slope
Back along the hills of hope
That before us shone so fair.

Ah! for us the merry May
Comes no more with golden weather;
Fields, and woods, and sunshine gay,
Purple skies, and purple heather.
We have had our holyday,
And I sit with folded hands,
In the twilight looking back
Over life's uneven track--
Thorny wilds, and desert sands.

Weary heart, unwearied faith,
In the twilight softly saith--
"We have had our golden weather--
We have walked through life together,
True, till death!"



THE BURIAL OF THE SCOUT.