My friend he was; my friend from all the rest
With childish faith he oped to me his breast
No door was locked on altar, grave or grief
No weakness vieled, concealed, no disbelief
The hope, the sorrow, and the wrong were bare
And, ah , the shadow only showed the fair

I gave him love for love, but deep within
I magnified each frailty into sin
Each hill-topped foible in the sunset glowed
Obscuring vales where rivered virtues flowed
Reproof became reproach, till common grew
The captious word at every fault I knew
He smiled upon the censorship, and bore

With patient love the touch that wounded sore
Until at length, so had my blindness grown
He knew I judged him by his faults alone

Alone of all men, I who knew him best
Refused the gold, to take the dross for test
Cold strangers honoured for the worth they saw
His friend forgot the diamond in the flaw

At last it came - the day he stood apart
When from my eyes he proudly veiled his heart
When carping judgement and uncertain word
A stern resentment in his bosom stirred
When in his face I read what I had been
And with his vision I saw what he had seen

Too late ! Too late ! Oh, could he then have known
When his love died, that mine had perfect grown
That when the veil was drawn, abased, chastised
The censor stood, and the lost one truly prized
Too late we learn, a man must hold his friend
Unjudged, accepted, trusted to the end.