My darling brother who I scarcely knew,
whom cruel fate has taken from this earth.
Cursed be the day on which your lot God drew.
You left the world and with you went all mirth.
Much have I missed because you now lay dead,
I've missed your love, your manner, and your speech.
Perhaps you now would comfort me when overcome with dread,
and I would be at rest if I had but you to teach.
You would by now be fully grown; a man,
preparing to go out into the world.
What joy it would have been to help you find your place,
to see you charge with manhood's flag unfurled.
How many nights might we have set and talked,
and passed the time so pleasantly.
How many fields might we have gayly walked,
the thought of it is heavenly.
But now, alas, those joys shall not be mine.
I must press on without those pleasures rare.
If God above should to my words incline,
I hope that he may greet you, brother fair.
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