Since last I saw that countenance so mild, br Slow-stealing age, and a faint line of care, br Had gently touched, methought, some features there; br Yet looked the man as placid as a child, br And the same voice,--whilst mingled with the throng, br Unknowing, and unknown, we passed along,-- br That voice, a share of the brief time beguiled! br That voice I ne'er may hear again, I sighed br At parting,--wheresoe'er our various way, br In this great world,--but from the banks of Tweed, br As slowly sink the shades of eventide, br Oh! I shall hear the music of his reed, br Far off, and thinking of that voice, shall say, br A blessing rest upon thy locks of gray!br br William Lisle Bowlesbr br