COLUMBIAN FOUNTAIN.

Written for the Methodist Protestant
A TRIBUTE TO MY FRIEND.
rsqsttsI 80 Sp .ts BY T. YATES REESE.
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= at@ ~ s' BY u. YATES REESE,
~ "Iove one another"
love thee as q brother
I have loved thee thus for years,
Since first in mutual confidence,


We mingled hopes and fears.
The ties that bound our youthful hearts


With deep mysterious spell,
Are not sundered in the lapse Of years,
My brother, A. A. L.
We little knew, my brother,


OF lfe's rugged sternnsss then;
We stood but on the threshold,


Where man contends with men.
The future all was promise bright,


TO fancy's generous swell,
When you and I first claspd the hand,
My brother, A. A. L.


We have been parted--other friends
t Have passed before thine eyes,
And stranger forms in stranger lands
,, + Have won thy fond replies:
We have been parted-hill and vale
And oceans mighty swell,
Have interyened between us, long,


My brother, A. A. L.


Yet now thou sandes,, once again,


Beside me as of yore;
clasp thy friendly hand in mine


With eagerness once more;
/ hear the same familiar tones h


Which erst knew so we'll,
And feel the rush Of olden joys,


My brother, A. A. L.
welcome this, to thy return


Unchanged as still thou art
A welcome to thee, brother,


And speak it from my heart.
Strangers, it may be, knew thy worth,
.,-,,< And priced thy virtues well,
But none loved thee more than have loved,
My brother, A. A. L.
Since we parted, changes sad,
!. Have marked our early homes,
4 The 'bright-the young-the beautiful
!" Have sunk into their tombs;
Oh, many voice that charmed us then,
#a With its sweet and holy spell,
Hath gone to join the angel-choirs,
My brother, A. A. L.
Still linger we Gods mercy
n Hath been ever richly given,
Mid scenes of gloom, how much Of joy


Hath made the earth like Heaven!
Still linger we !--and once again


Our hopes and fears may tell,
AS first in youthful confidence,
", My brother, A. A. L.


Then welcome this, my brother,
Unchanged as still thou art,
A welcome to thee, brother,


And speak it from my heart. ~
Strangers, it may be, knewthy worth,
And priced thy virtues well, ga
But none loved thee more than have loved,


My brother, A. A. l..