O, my friend,
What fitting word can I say?
You, my chum,
My companion of infinite talks,
Through whom I saw myself at best;
You, the light of this western country.
You, a great richness.
Product and treasure of these States.
Bill, I knew you had gone.
I was walking down into town this morning,
And amid the hurry of cars and the flash of this July sun,
You came to me.
At least the intimation came to me;
And may it be you,
That somewhere I can laugh and talk long hours with you again.