To - -
By Thomas Frederick Young
These lines, which on this leaf I write,
I trace with friendly thoughts of thee,
And hope, when o'er this page you glance,
You'll think a kindly thought of me.
And why should I this tribute ask?
Why crave from you this humble boon?
Because I knew you through life's morn,
And hope to know you in its noon.
Because the path of life we trod,
With youthful hearts so free from pain,
When both together went to school,
And wander'd gaily home again.
This, then, is why I ask of you,
As on this little page you look,
To think of me, with other friends,
Whose names are written in your book.