COMRADES.

I and my Soul are alone to-day,

All in the shining weather;

We were sick of the world, and we put it away,

So we could rejoice together.

Our host, the Sun, in the blue, blue sky

Is mixing a rare, sweet wine,

In the burnished gold of his cup on high,

For me, and this Soul of mine.

We find it a safe and royal drink,

And a cure for every pain;

It helps us to love, and helps us to think,

And strengthens body and brain.

And sitting here, with my Soul alone,

Where the yellow sun-rays fall,

Of all the friends I have ever known

I find it the best of all.

We rarely meet when the World is near,

For the World hath a pleasing art

And brings me so much that is bright and dear

That my Soul it keepeth apart.

But when I grow weary of mirth and glee,

Of glitter, and glow, and splendor,

Like a tried old friend it comes to me,

With a smile that is sad and tender.

And we walk together as two friends may,

And laugh, and drink God's wine.

Oh, a royal comrade any day

I find this Soul of mine.