THOUGH HE that, ever kind and true, Kept stoutly step by step with you, Your whole long, gusty lifetime through, Be gone a while before -- Be now a moment gone before -- Yet doubt not; soon the season shall restore Your friend to you. He has but turned the corner -- still He pushes on with right good will Through mire and marsh, by heugh and hill That selfsame arduous way -- That selfsame, upland, hopeful way, That you and he, through many a doubtful day Attempted still. He is not dead -- this friend -- not dead, But in the path we mortals tread Got some few trifling steps ahead, And nearer to the end; So that you, too, once past the bend, Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend You fancy dead. Push gaily on, brave heart, the while You travel forward mile by mile, He loiters, with a backward smile, Till you can overtake; And strains his eyes to search his wake, Or, whistling as he sees you through the brake, Waits on a stile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SHIP OF RIO by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE THE DAY IS DONE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET: 104 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SPORTSMEN IN PARADISE by T. P. CAMERON WILSON THE SABBATH LAMP by GRACE AGUILAR THE WARM CRADLE by LAWRENCE ALMA-TADEMA TO A FLOWER by CORRINNE M. ARTHUR THE AUTHOR'S FRIEND TO THE READER by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |