Comrades.

I and my Soul are alone to-day,
    All in the shining weather;
We were sick of the world, and we put it away,
    So we could rejoice together.

Our host, the Sun, in the blue, blue sky
    Is mixing a rare, sweet wine,
In the burnished gold of his cup on high,
    For me, and this Soul of mine.

We find it a safe and royal drink,
    And a cure for every pain;
It helps us to love, and helps us to think,
    And strengthens body and brain.

And sitting here, with my Soul alone,
    Where the yellow sun-rays fall,
Of all the friends I have ever known
    I find it the best of all.

We rarely meet when the World is near,
    For the World hath a pleasing art
And brings me so much that is bright and dear
    That my Soul it keepeth apart.

But when I grow weary of mirth and glee,
    Of glitter, and glow, and splendor,
Like a tried old friend it comes to me,
    With a smile that is sad and tender.

And we walk together as two friends may,
    And laugh, and drink God's wine.
Oh, a royal comrade any day
    I find this Soul of mine.