Keep these few lines till time shall end,
In memory of your absent friend;
Who wanders o'er life's boisterous wave,
The meek, the humble poor to save.
While I endure I'll spend my breath
In prayer for those who love the truth.
In distant lands I'll call to mind,
My true and faithful friends so kind.
Let these few lines adorn the place
Where you retire to seek his grace;
Then lift your voice in humble prayer,
For him whose lines are hanging there.