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Show MINE ENEMY. (By Annie Pike Greenwood, in the Century.) He smiled beneath the thing which made me quail, And bore him bravely on that blighting day. God made mine enemy to me a light; For he could bear, while I had heart, to fail, How can I falter in the weary way, Knowing mine enemy would walk upright? He died last week, you say, Ah me! Could I but think 'twas only then, Less haltingly would drag my pen, My tears would flow less bitterly. Last week? Kay, years ago, alas! He died, that nobler self we knew, The soul to God and conscience true, Indifferent t things that pass. And yet who knows what may betide Ere mortal life ebbs quite away? God grant of him the angels say, He lived again before he died. Arthur Barry in Ave Maria. |
