Blessed is the man that beholdeth the face of a friend in a far country,
The darkness of his heart is melted by the dawning of day within him,
It is like the sound of a sweet music heard long ago and half forgotten:
It is like the coming back of birds to a wood when the winter is ended.
I knew not the sweetness of the fountain till I found it flowing in the
desert,
Nor the value of a friend till we met in a land that was crowded and
lonely.
The multitude of mankind had bewildered me and oppressed me,
And I complained to God, Why hast thou made the world so wide?
But when my friend came the wideness of the world had no more terror,
Because we were glad together among men to whom we were strangers.
It seemed as if I had been reading a book in a foreign language,
And suddenly I came upon a page written in the tongue of my childhood.
This was the gentle heart of my friend who quietly understood me,
The open and loving heart whose meaning was clear without a word.
O thou great Companion who carest for all thy pilgrims and strangers,
I thank thee heartily for the comfort of a comrade on the distant road.
