whisper a last good-bye.
When Love shall unloose the hand-clasp and under the heaping clays
Shall hide in the shadows dark, dear, the dreams of the by-gone days!

II.

Whatever the paths we wander, they lead to the ways that part!
One goes to the realm of shadows, one waits with a lonely heart;
And tears that we weep together shall come at the cry of prayer
And flow in a flood of grieving at pangs of the parting there.

III.

The roses will bloom as red, dear, through all of the laughing land;
The lilies will grow as white, dear, but neither will understand;
For what is the rose and lily to hearts that murmur and moan,
With eyes that were bright all dim, dear, and one of us here alone!

IV.

Ah, one that is left shall murmur and ask of the bud and bloom,
And question the awful silence and mourn at the gates of gloom;
And call through the nights of darkness and sit at the doors of woe,
And never an answer at all, dear, from lips that it used to know!

V.

And one at the darkened window and door of the heart's old home.
Shall wait with an unspoke welcome for one that shall never come;
And one at the gate stand watching as there in the years before,
While the latch of the gate is silent and one shall return no more!

VI.

Whichever it be that goes, dear, whichever it be that stays,
The lily and rose shall bloom, dear, through all of the lonely days;
And all that we lived so bravely and all that we loved so long
Shall dwell with the one that stays, dear, and lighten the lips with
song.

VII.

Enough that the joys were many, that Love was a sun and star!
Enough that we knew the raptures as tired feet wandered far!
Enough that the years were happy and sweet was the golden light
That came at the first "Good Morning" and stayed till the last "Good
Night!"

Upward.

What matters the tempest,
The storm and the night?
Up yonder is glowing
The rainbow of light:
And o'er the red path-ways to glory we go
The feet of our faith in their happiness know!

Success in its true sense is a personal and subjective matter, after
all. Many have commanded armies and sat upon the purple thrones of the
world with tear-stained cheeks and the unhappiest of hearts. Unless life
has brought happiness to the one who spends it royally, failure of the
most ignominious kind has been its