THE DEPARTED FRIEND
And thou art gone, whose sympathy made days
Of nervous dread and silent agony
Into thank-offerings of prayer and praise
For one kind friend, one who was kind to me!
Oh, you may think it was the daily acts
Of thoughtfulness, all for my comfort done!
Often the setting its bright jewel lacks,
A hollow thing when sympathy is gone
Is the cold deed—that lifeless ministry
That freezes all the springs of hope in me,
Think not I have forgotten one who cares.
Of nervous dread and silent agony
Into thank-offerings of prayer and praise
For one kind friend, one who was kind to me!
Oh, you may think it was the daily acts
Of thoughtfulness, all for my comfort done!
Often the setting its bright jewel lacks,
A hollow thing when sympathy is gone
Is the cold deed—that lifeless ministry
That freezes all the springs of hope in me,
Think not I have forgotten one who cares.