A Foe and a Friend

A foe and a friendOn man's pathway attend,One nerves him with life's ills to cope;Tells of courage to bear,And to banish despair,He cheerily whispers of Hope.

Not so with the foe,Wherever we go,He follows with dark, frowning face;No kind words of cheer,From his thin lips we hear,He bodes only ill to our race.

The spectre grim, in memory's hall—That binds the soul in terror's thrall;The raven's croak, the owlet's scream—The nightmare of a troubled dream—But faint types these of that deep gloomWhich dark Distrust flings o'er Hope's tomb.

But calm-browed Trust—meek angel, standsWith upturned gaze, and folded hands;In sorrow's night she soothes the breastWith visions fair of heaven and rest;Pure, loving thoughts, celestial flowers,She brings to cheer Doubt's saddest hours.

Shall foe or friendThy path attend?To each, to all, the choice is given;Decide with care,Of Doubt beware—The foe, Distrust, ne'er enters heaven.