My friend of days, but not of years,
With kindly heart these lines I trace,
To tell you of a kindly wish,
Which I upon this page would place.
It is that thou thro' future years
May meet with very much of joy,
And just a little grief, because
Continued happiness will cloy.
And when, in future years, you read
What I to you just now have sung,
Let others praise or blame, do thou
Think pleasantly of T. F. Young.