The Poetry Corner

My Old Friend

By James Whitcomb Riley

You've a manner all so mellow, My old friend, That it cheers and warms a fellow, My old friend, Just to meet and greet you, and Feel the pressure of a hand That one may understand, My old friend. Though dimmed in youthful splendor, My old friend, Your smiles are still as tender, My old friend, And your eyes as true a blue As your childhood ever knew, And your laugh as merry, too, My old friend. For though your hair is faded, My old friend, And your step a trifle jaded, My old friend, Old Time, with all his lures In the trophies he secures, Leaves young that heart of yours, My old friend. And so it is you cheer me, My old friend, For to know you still are near me, My old friend, Makes my hopes of clearer light, And my faith of surer sight, And my soul a purer white, My old friend.