A Hidden Life

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II.

I went to listen to my teacher friend. O Friend above, thanks for the friend below! Who having been made wise, deep things to know, With brooding spirit over them doth bend, Until they waken words, as wings, to send Their seeds far forth, seeking a place to grow. The lesson past, with quiet foot I go, And towards his silent room, expectant wend, Seeking a blessing, even leave to dwell For some eternal minutes in his eyes. And he smiled on me in his loving wise; His hand spoke friendship, satisfied me well; My presence was some pleasure, I could tell. Then forth we went beneath the smoky skies.



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