Classic Poem

My friends have been like daily bread,
Essential yet unmerited;
As kind as sunshine after rain
And firelight on the window pane:
As kind as harbour lights at sea
Or some familiar melody:
As good as salt my friends to me.

I count them over for love's praise,—
The rascal troop of childhood's days,
The laughter-loving friends of school
Who sighed beneath the selfsame rule.
The lank of limb, the quick of tongue,
With waist-encircling arms we clung,—
So well we loved when we were young.

I found them matched to every mood,
Wise, frivolous or rash or good;
Gay comrades of the winter fire
Or, answering summertime's desire,
Companions of the sun and wind,
Dear fellow-travellers, proven, kind,
The spirit-kin of heart and mind.

I bless them all, but ah! most blessed
Be those true friends beyond the rest
Who, silent but yet unafraid,
Have watched and waited, loved and prayed,
When, lone as every soul must be,
The dreary shadows closed on me
In nether-pits of agony.
. . . . . .
With friendship little need I care
For stiffening limbs and whitening hair,
For as the tale of years is told
My friends grow old—they too grow old.
But since death makes worn things anew
Old bonds shall prove more tried and true,
I'll still love you … and you … and you.