"O FRIEND of other days" -- You start, at our first meeting, To hear the cordial greeting, And search the past for warrant of the phrase, "My soul, " you say, "have I forgot Some memorable hour and spot When, with long-clasping hand And confident demand, Mine eye its tribute took In level, lingering look? Or, in some age of yore Trod we this path before?" But why look back for treasure? Many a star Was undiscovered once. Our choicest good Was erst an unseen angel; long she stood So near we knew not and esteemed it far, For what to her was veil to us was bar. No, not quite yet that moment, rich but dumb, Of friendship's troth the sum. We tread the same path toward it: we but hear The inland tide to know the ocean near. 'T is to the future, not the past, must be Your staunchest loyalty, O Friend of other days -- to come! |