Where is he now whose eyes swam brighter,
Softer than love, in his turbulent charms;
Who taught me to strike, and to fall, dear fighter,
And gather me up in his boyhood arms;
Taught me the rifle, and with me went riding,
Suppled my limbs to the horseman's war;
Where is he now, for whom my heart's biding,
Biding, biding--but he rides far!
O love that passes the love of woman!
Who that hath felt it shall ever forget
When the breath of life with a throb turns human,
And a lad's heart is to a lad's heart set?
Ever, forever, lover and rover--
They shall cling, nor each from other shall part
Till the reign of the stars in the heavens be 'over,
And life is dust in each faithful heart.
They are dead, the American grasses under;
There is no one now who presses my side;
By the African chotts I am riding asunder,
And with great joy ride I the last great ride.
I am fey; I am fein of sudden dying;
Thousands of miles there is no one near;
And my heart--all the night it is crying, crying
In the bosoms of dead lads darling-dear.
Hearts of my music--them dark earth covers;
Comrades to die, and to die for, were they;
In the width of the world there were no such rovers--
Back to back, breast to breast, it was ours to stay;
And the highest on earth was the vow that we cherished,
To spur forth from the crowd and come back
never more,
And to ride in the track of great souls perished
Till the nests of the lark shall roof us o'er.
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