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The Dark Comrade.

Through days of enigma and sorrow
(From doubt and dejection unscreened),
Through vigils that dreaded the morrow
(Ah, never a star intervened!),
I walked with the friend of my bosom,
And that friend was a mournful fiend.

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For years we were pilgrims united;
Oh, strange were those otherworld years!
We darkled like goblins affrighted,
We whispered of perils and tears;
Yes, terrible friend of my bosom,
Thou sharedst my anguish and fears.
Long since that companion departed;
I know not the wherefore nor when.
Henceforth I was humaner hearted,
And herded and labored with men;
Yet often, dark friend of my bosom,
I would change the Now for the Then.
Yea more! I would greet thee with gladness
And nevermore part from thy side;
Would follow thee, Shadow of madness,
Wherever thy moaning may guide;
Yea, follow thee, friend of my bosom,
Though seraphim beckon and chide.