How often in my dreams have I beheld An enemy with a grinning, loathsome face; And then, before the dream is over, lo! A smiling friend has taken that enemy's place. So, when unkindness comes my way, I think Of an enemy first; but in the end It follows, two to one, the secret blow Is struck by one who calls himself my friend! Call me a Nature poet, nothing more, Who writes of simple things, not human evil; And hear my grief when I confess that friends Have tried their best to make a cunning devil! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JOHN CABANIS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS COLLOQUE SENTIMENTAL by PAUL VERLAINE THE SPHINX by RALPH WALDO EMERSON WRITTEN ON A GLOOMY DAY, IN SICKNESS. THACKWOOD, 4TH JUNE, 1786 by SUSANNA BLAMIRE |