Nay, if your friend should prove
A secret foe,
And where you sowed your love
No love should grow;
If when your hope had end,
One smiled thereat,
One promised to befriend
And then forgat--
You may not judge the world by this man or by that.
What though to-day the ways
Are chill with sleet?
The year has many days,
And some are sweet;
And while the world no less
Within its span
Hath still one heart to bless
For two that ban,
You need but lose your faith in men, and not in man.