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My friend he was; my friend from all the rest; With childlike faith he oped to me his breast; No door was locked on altar, grave or grief; No weakness veiled, 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!