It seem’d a rare and royal friendship, ours, The very sovereignty of sympathy; Begun so early too—mere lads we were— And now I never look back there again But, swept like shading from a hero’s face In pictures,—those of Rembrandt,—all the school Appear in hues of dim uncertainty Surrounding Elbert, shining in relief. Not strange was it; too tender was I made; Nor oft had felt a touch save that of age, When moulding all my methods to its own. Kept back from contact with rough boys at play, Till sensitive and shrinking as a girl, A hint of their regard could master me; No maiden, dreaming of her wedding day, Could wake at morning with more trembling hopes Than I, when looking forward to my school. But when I reach’d it, not a Bluebeard more Could have disturb’d a trusting bride’s romance. II. At first, they lodged me there with such a loon! “Our clown!” so said the boys; and clown he was; Would tease all day, and tumble round all night; And, every morning, sure as came the sun, Would start and rout me out, with strap in hand, Plied like a coach-whip round my dancing shape, Well put to blush until I dodged away. A chum had Elbert too; and, like my own, A wild boy caged, who seem’d more wild at times Through beating at his bars, a hapless wretch. And when our happier love had flower’d in us, Half pitying each other, half this chum, Which pity grew, we both stood round, scarce loath To note his own wild set inflating him With well-blown whims that swell’d his empty pride Forsooth, the better bubble he could be, The better hope we two could have of what Should blow him from us. Then the blow came on:— A gust of scolding struck him, and he went,— Obey’d the call that had been mouthed for him,— An inn-clerk’s, as I think,—and bow’d content To sink from view like Paul, one gloomy night, From out the window of his room; while we, Much giggling, flung his luggage after him. III. My friend, thus widow’d, caused that our school’s head, Already nodding o’er his noonday pipe, Should beck at sever’d dreams with one nod more, And so consent to our dreams. Room-mates made, We slamm’d his door and woke him; not ourselves. Our dreamland lasted, that is, when we two Were by ourselves. When more surrounded us— You know boy-friends are shy: is it a trait, Their shielding of their hearts, that fits them thus For life-tilts of their manhood?—How we two Would rasp each other when the world look’d on! In truth, each seem’d to wear his nature’s coat The soft side inward, comforting himself, And turn the rough side only toward the world. If strangers chafed against it, yet oneself And friend were saved this.