ON A LETTER FROM
A FRIEND
Like
a zephyr gently blowing
Warm and spicy from the South,
Like the welcome raindrops falling
At the breaking of a drouth,
Came to me a welcome letter
From a dear old friend of mine,
With a sweetness and a flavor
That long aging gives to wine.
On
the balmy breezes wafted
From the Isles of Long Ago,
Comes the odor of an incense
In the evening's golden glow;
'Tis a sacred distillation
From the memories of youth,
When our hearts were young and happy
And the world was full of truth.
There
is not a finer fruitage
From the garden of the heart;
None whose vintage hath the flavor
That true friendship doth impart;
There's no cup that gives more courage
To combat our needless fears
Than the friendly draught that's flowing
From the winepress of the years.
By
J.
M. RichardsonŠ
|