Friend Of My Many Years When The Great Silence Falls, At Last, On Me, Let Me Not Leave, To Pain And Sadden Thee, A Memory Of Tears, But Pleasant Thoughts Alone Of One Who Was Thy Friendship'S Honored Guest And Drank The Wine Of Consolation Pressed From Sorrows Of Thy Own. I Leave With Thee A Sense Of Hands Upheld And Trials Rendered Less The Unselfish Joy Which Is To Helpfulness Its Own Great Recompense; The Knowledge That From Thine, As From The Garments Of The Master, Stole Calmness And Strength, The Virtue Which Makes Whole And Heals Without A Sign; Yea More, The Assurance Strong That Love, Which Fails Of Perfect Utterance Here, Lives On To Fill The Heavenly Atmosphere With Its Immortal Song.