Excerpt from A Book of Friendship: A Collection of Verse and Prose

Reach your hand to me, my friend, With its heartiest caress Sometime there will come an end To its present faithfulness Sometime I may ask in vain For the touch of it again, When between us land or sea Holds it ever back from me.

O the present is too sweet To go on forever thus! Round the corner of the street Who can say what waits for us Meeting - greeting, night and day, Faring each the self-same way Still, somewhere, the path must end.

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