60
MY FRIEND.
And as long as I keep true to him,
Why, he 'll keep true to me.
Why, he 'll keep true to me.
When the wind blows high and the snow falls fast
And we hear the wassailers' roar—
My Friend and I, with a right good-will
We bolt the chamber door:
I smile at him and he smiles at me
In a dreamy calm profound,
Till his heart leaps up in the midst of him
With a comfortable sound.
And we hear the wassailers' roar—
My Friend and I, with a right good-will
We bolt the chamber door:
I smile at him and he smiles at me
In a dreamy calm profound,
Till his heart leaps up in the midst of him
With a comfortable sound.
His warm breath kisses my thin gray hair
And reddens my ashen cheeks;
He knows me better than you all know,
Though never a word he speaks:—
Knows me as well as some had known
Were things—not as things be.
But hey, what matters? my Friend and I
Are capital company.
And reddens my ashen cheeks;
He knows me better than you all know,
Though never a word he speaks:—
Knows me as well as some had known
Were things—not as things be.
But hey, what matters? my Friend and I
Are capital company.
At dead of night, when the house is still,
He opens his pictures fair:
Faces that are, that used to be,
And faces that never were:
My wife sits sewing beside my hearth,
My little ones frolic wild,
Though—Lillian 's married these twenty years,
And I never had a child.
He opens his pictures fair:
Faces that are, that used to be,
And faces that never were:
My wife sits sewing beside my hearth,
My little ones frolic wild,
Though—Lillian 's married these twenty years,
And I never had a child.
