| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 77. The Brothers |
| | | By Charles Sprague |
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| WE are but two—the others sleep | |
| Through death’s untroubled night; | |
| We are but two—O, let us keep | |
| The link that binds us bright. | |
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| Heart leaps to heart—the sacred flood | 5 |
| That warms us is the same; | |
| That good old man—his honest blood | |
| Alike we fondly claim. | |
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| We in one mother’s arms were locked— | |
| Long be her love repaid; | 10 |
| In the same cradle we were rocked, | |
| Round the same hearth we played. | |
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| Our boyish sports were all the same, | |
| Each little joy and woe;— | |
| Let manhood keep alive the flame, | 15 |
| Lit up so long ago. | |
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| We are but two—be that the band | |
| To hold us till we die; | |
| Shoulder to shoulder let us stand, | |
| Till side by side we lie. | 20 |
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