Explore "Three Friends of Mine" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I
When I remember them, those friends of mine, / Who are no longer here, the noble three, / Who half my life were more than friends to me, / And whose discourse was like a generous wine, / I most of all remember the divine / Something, that shone in them, and made us see / The archetypal man, and what might be / The amplitude of Nature's first design. / In vain I stretch my hands to clasp their hands; / I cannot find them. Nothing now is left / But a majestic memory. They meanwhile / Wander together in Elysian lands, / Perchance remembering me, who am bereft / Of their dear presence, and, remembering, smile.