He said he was my enemy,
And I believed it for a time,
Thus armed him well with barb and spear:
With hatred, vengeance, grim old fear,
Deceitful greeds and lustful grime,
And subtle darts of rivalry.
Oh, keen the weapons that I made,
And sharp the thoughts which gave them edge.
Then, armorless, I surcease sought
From arrows my own hands had wrought,
Till on the chasm's baneful ledge
In my extremity I prayed
Nor prayed I for a swift undoing
Of him who harbored hate for me;
But, rather, for the grace to anchor,
With vision clear, beyond the rancor,
That man, the Godlike, I might see
And witness Love's divine renewing.
Thus error's bow soon ceased to bend;
Its barbs fell harmless to the sod.
No arrows waited for hate's hour,
Since I no longer gave them power.
For. seeing man as seen of God,
I found in him a God-made friend.
