He was, through boyhood's storm and shower,
My best, my nearest friend;
We wore one hat, smoked one cigar,
One standing at each end.
We were two hearts with single hope,
Two faces in one hood;
I knew the secrets of his youth;
I watched his every mood.
The little things that none but I
Saw were beyond his wont,
The streaming hair, the tie behind,
The coat tails worn in front.
I marked the... more...