Poems (Kimball)/Friends

by Harriet McEwen Kimball

For works with similar titles, see Friends.

FRIENDS.

to cara.

THERE is only the river between us, dear,
 And we can come and go,
And though you are there and I am here
 I am filled with content, for I know
You are moving brightly about the house
 Busy with many a task,
And often alone in your fair sweet room
In the morning light or the evening gloom
    You think of me,
    You pray for me,
 And, oh, what more can I ask!

Daily, indeed, I wish you were here,
 And when I am doubtful or vexed
I long for your counsels calm and clear,
 But I do the thing that lies next,
And He who is more than any friend
 Makes everything easy and straight,
And it is not so hard as I feared to go
In the way untried, and as long as I know
    You think of me
    And you pray for me,
 For everything else I can wait.

Some day I shall go to her I say,
 Or she will come over to me;
In a little space I shall see her face,
 This very day it may be.
So I will not mind the things unkind,
 The bitter that might be sweet
But strive with a better braver heart
To fight the good fight and bear my part,
    While she thinks of me
    And prays for me,
 And very soot we shall meet.

Sometimes I ponder how it will be
 When you drift to some home afar;
And sometimes how when you are gone
 Where the saints and angels
When another river shall flow between
 That never can be recrossed;
But still I say, whatever betide,
Though earth may part us or death divide,
    She will think of me,
    She will pray for me;
 My friend can never be lost.

For friendship to live must be to love
 To remember must be to pray
So living or dying your prayers must be mine
 And mine must be yours alway.
And, oh, in the light of Paradise,
 Most faithful of friends, most dear,
Unhindered by weakness or doubt, and wise
With the wisdom that sees not with earthly eyes,
    It surely must be
    You will pray for me
 As you could not pray for me here!