Companion

I walk amid a living throng

That presses on toward gleaming dawn

Through shade and darkness heavy, deep, 

That threatens never-ending sleep.

But waking, I, and hundreds more

Must reach that glitt’ring, golden shore;

’Tis promised that the shades of night

Will not prevent us nearing light.

While on I press, sole foot-tread’s sound

Is echoed as it touches ground;

For though at first I trod alone,

Now walks along with me, this one.

This one has matched my onward tread,

And presses on through stench of death,

Through narrow pass and winding road,

This one has shared my weary load.

And on, with many thousands more,

The one and I seek golden shore;

So walk we on, with hand in hand,

To gain, forever, Heaven’s land.