Antonie Roy Edwards

I cannot say and I will not say

That he is dead, he is just away.

With a cheery smile and a wave of hand

He has wandered into an unknown land;

And left us dreaming how very fair

Its needs must be, since he lingers there.

And you-oh you, who the wildest yearn

From the old-time step and the glad return –

Think of his faring on, as dear

In the love of there, as the love of here

Think of him still the same way, I say;

He is not dead, he is just away.

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