Thinking of you
Gray be the clouds above me
Friend of my better days
None knew thee but to love thee
And called out thy name in praise
And I , who woke each morrow
To clasp thy hand in mine,
Who shared the joy and sorrow,
Whose weal and woe were thine-
While memory bids me weep thee,
Nor thoughts nor words are free,
The grief is fixed too deeply,
That morns a man like me.
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