As thy friend's face, with shadow of soul o'erspread, br Somewhile unto thy sight perchance hath been br Ghastly and strange, yet never so is seen br In thought, but to all fortunate favour wed; br As thy love's death-bound features never dead br To memory's glass return, but contravene br Frail fugitive days, and alway keep, I ween, br Than all new life a livelier lovelihead:— br So Life herself, thy spirit's friend and love, br Even still as Spring's authentic harbinger br Glows with fresh hours for hope to glorify; br Though pale she lay when in the winter grove br Her funeral flowers were snow-flakes shed on her br And the red wings of frost-fire rent the sky.