Comrades I and my Soul are alone to-day, All in the shining weather; We were sick of the world, and 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 this 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, glow, and splendour, 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. |
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