I WAS your friend once, very long ago. You held the key wherewith to ope my heart, What did you find there? Aught of sin or woe? ... A host of flowers 'neath a mild sun's dart. I am your friend again. Now take this key— Unlock my heart once more and step therein. What do you find! The flowers that used to be? ... A tangled bed of weeds of grief and sin! |