The Constant Friend

BENEATH the green, unfolding leaves,
In rosy dawning day,
I stood and looked to east and west
To find which way would suit me best,
And north and south, and east and west,
I looked to find the way.

The bells rang through the sunny air,
The May buds opened fresh and fair,
The birds were singing everywhere,
And I was young and gay.
I saw around on every side
The many winding paths divide,
And wrapt in wonder, grand and wide
The earth before me lay.

I clapped my hands and laughed and cried
To all the birds and butterflies.
“ Now who will be my friend and guide
And always with me stay?”
Then from the green, unfolding leaves
Love’s eyes upon me shone.
His voice with spring-time’s promise swelled,
And all the sweet May morning held ;
His voice with spring-time’s promise swelled
In rippling crystal tone.

“ ‘T is I will be thy constant friend,
From first to last, from end to end,
Be with thee all the way.
I ’ll sing for thee when birds are fled,
I ’ll bloom for thee when flowers are dead ;
My radiant warmth around me shed
Shall make December May.
My voice divine shall still thy fears,
My sunbeams shine in all thy tears,
My blessings night and day
Make good to thee the cold world’s scorn,
And set a rose on every thorn,
And from thy pathway rough and long
Roll every stone away.”

This Love did say—did say to me,
When I was young and gay.

Beneath the brown and falling leaves
I watch the fading day.
I ‘ve wandered far through east and west,
Whichever way did seem the best;
And north and south, and east and west,
In many a winding way.
Dull clouds obscure the autumn skies,
Gone are the birds and butterflies,
Forlorn and bare the wide earth lies,
And I am old and gray.

The song is out, the race is run,
And dark the night is drawing on :
From lonesome plains the north wind’s moan
Is sounding in my ear.
But constant friend from first to last,
Though every star be overcast,
Love stands beside me firm and fast,
And nought have I to fear.

He wraps me in his mantle warm,
He keeps away the cold and storm,
His kind cares never cease.
His gentle, soothing fingers spread
A pillow neath my weary head, He fills my age with peace.
He sang for me when birds were flown,
He bloomed for me when flowers were gone,
He made December May.
And let my griefs be what they might,
Each tear still held his sunbeam’s light ;
His blessings night and day
Made good to me the cold world’s scorn,
And set a rose on every thorn,
And from my pathway rough and long
Rolled every stone away.

This Love did do — did do to me,
And I am old and gray.