MY FRIEND.
Wouldst thou be friend of mine?—
Thou must be quick and bold
When the right is to be done,
And the truth is to be told;
Wearing no friend-like smile
When thine heart is hot within,
Making no truce with fraud or guile,
No compromise with sin.
Open of eye and speech,
Open of heart and hand,
Holding thine own but as in trust
For thy great brother-band.
Patient and stout to bear,
Yet bearing not for ever;
Gentle to rule, and slow to bind,
Like lightning to deliver!
True to thy fatherland,
True to thine own true love;
True to thine altar and thy creed,
And thy good God above.
But with no bigot scorn
For faith sincere as thine,
Though less of form attend the prayer,
Or more of pomp the shrine;
Remembering Him who spake
The word that cannot lie,
"Where two or three in my name meet
There in the midst am I!"
I bar thee not from faults—
God wot, it were in vain!
Inalienable heritage
Since that primeval slain!
The wisest have been fools—
The surest stumbled sore:
Strive thou to stand—or fall'n arise,
I ask thee not for more!
This do, and thou shalt knit
Closely my heart to thine;
Next the dear love of God above,
Such Friend on earth, be mine!
O.O.
LONDON, January 1844.