  TIME keeps no measure when true friends are parted,— No record day by day; The sands move not for those who, loyal-hearted, Friendship’s firm laws obey. It is not well to note with dull precision The flight of days or years; Memory depends not on a proof by vision, And has no foolish fears. The migrant birds when they are Southward flying Have no regrets; they go Full of the knowledge born of faith undying, That they again shall know The homes and nests which they have left behind them Unmarred by change the while; The Southern lands they seek will but remind them Of the North’s summer smile. And so I know that you will come to meet me In the old, well-loved way; That, though a year go by, you still will greet me As kindly as to-day. |
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