[Written for the Sentinel]

His Friend

My friend is not in height or weight,In figure, texture, color, gait,Or beauty which may charm the eyeYet swiftly as a shadow fly;But in the grace his words imbue,Compassion gentle as the dew,Fidelity which cannot fail,As needle true through every gale.

My friend is Life and Love and TruthReflected in abiding youthWhich ne'er may alter or decay,Degenerate or pass away;For, held forever strong in Mind,By Truth from falsities refined,He lives—the Father's witness bright,An earnest of supernal light.

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Editorial
The True Christmas
December 23, 1916
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