Foes

From ImmortalPoetry
Jump to navigationJump to search

Thank Fate for foes! I hold mine dear
   As valued friends. He cannot know
The zest of life who runneth here
   His earthly race without a foe.

I saw a prize. "Run," cried my friend;
   "'Tis thine to claim without a doubt."
But ere I half-way reached the end,
   I felt my strength was giving out.

My foe looked on the while I ran;
   A scornful triumph lit his eyes.
With that perverseness born in man,
   I nerved myself, and won the prize.

All blinded by the crimson glow
   Of sin's disguise, I tempted Fate.
"I knew thy weakness!" sneered my foe,
   I saved myself, and balked his hate.

For half my blessings, half my gain,
   I needs must thank my trusty foe;
Despite his envy and disdain,
   He serves me well where'er I go.

So may I keep him to the end,
   Nor may his enmity abate:
More faithful than the fondest friend,
   He guards me ever with his hate.

by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

Add your comment
ImmortalPoetry welcomes all comments. If you do not want to be anonymous, register or log in. It is free.