Comrades

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I and my Soul are alone to-day,
   All in the shining weather;
We were sick of the world, and 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 this 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, glow, and splendour,
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.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

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