The Poetry Corner

My Friend.

By James Whitcomb Riley

"He is my friend," I said, - "Be patient!"Overhead The skies were drear and dim; And lo! the thought of him Smited on my heart - and then The sun shone out again! "He is my friend!"The words Brought summer and the birds; And all my winter-time Thawed into running rhyme And rippled into song, Warm, tender, brave, and strong. And so it sings to-day. - So may it sing alway! Though waving grasses grow Between, and lilies blow Their trills of perfume clear As laughter to the ear, Let each mute measure end With "Still he is thy friend."