LEE O. HARRIS

O say not he is dead,

The friend we honored so;

Lift up a grateful voice instead

And say: He lives, we know —

We know it by the light

Of his enduring love

Of honor, valor, truth, and right,

And man, and God above.

Remember how he drew

The child-heart to his own,

And taught the parable anew,

And reaped as he had sown;

Remember with what cheer

He filled the little lives,

And stayed the sob and dried the tear

With mirth that still survives.

All duties to his kind

It was his joy to fill;

With nature gentle and refined,

Yet dauntless soul and will,

He met the trying need

Of every troublous call,

Yet high and clear and glad indeed

He sung above it all.

Ay, listen! Still we hear

The patriot song, the lay

Of love, the woodland note so dear —

These will not die away.

Then say not he is dead,

The friend we honor so,

But lift a grateful voice instead

And say: He lives, we know.