To take the hand of my friend's friend, even apparitionally, is a hallowed pleasure.
I think you told me you were his kinsman.
I was only his friend - and cannot yet believe that
"his part in all the pomp that fillsHis last words in his last Note were "A Caller comes." I infer it to be Eternity, as he never returned.
Your task must be a fervent one - often one of pain.
To fulfill the will of a powerless friend supersedes the Grave.
Oh, Death, where is thy Chancellor? On my way to my sleep, last night, I paused at the Portrait. Had I not loved it, I had feared it, the Face had such ascension.
Go thy great way!Thank you for the nobleness, and for the earnest Note - but all are friends, upon a Spar.
Last updated on April 14, 2000