English poem
The New Friend
by Marie Van Vorst (1867–1936)
Friend--my restless spirit never knew What good gifts the heavens kept late to send Till the dear day dawned that brought me--you, Friend!
Lacking love like this, too many wend Graveward. Highest heaven holds few Joys like this, with cruel pain to blend.
I who know not Peace may feel its dew; I who have no prayers may kneel and bend In this gentle presence;--dear and new Friend!