Explore "My Old Friend" by James Whitcomb Riley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
You've a manner all so mellow, / My old friend, / That it cheers and warms a fellow, / My old friend, / Just to meet and greet you, and / Feel the pressure of a hand / That one may understand, / My old friend.
Though dimmed in youthful splendor, / My old friend, / Your smiles are still as tender, / My old friend, / And your eyes as true a blue / As your childhood ever knew, / And your laugh as merry, too, / My old friend.
For though your hair is faded, / My old friend, / And your step a trifle jaded, / My old friend, / Old Time, with all his lures / In the trophies he secures, / Leaves young that heart of yours, / My old friend.
And so it is you cheer me, / My old friend, / For to know you still are near me, / My old friend, / Makes my hopes of clearer light, / And my faith of surer sight, / And my soul a purer white, / My old friend.