CONSOLATION
Though he, that ever kind and true,
Kept stoutly step by step with you,
Your whole long, gusty lifetime through,
Be gone a while before,
Be now a moment gone before,
Yet, doubt not, soon the seasons shall restore
Your friend to you.
He has but turned the corner—still
He pushes on with right good will,
Through mire and marsh, by heugh and hill,
That self-same arduous way—
That self-same upland, hopeful way,
That you and he through many a doubtful day
Attempted still.
He is not dead, this friend—not dead,
But in the path we mortals tread
Got some few, trifling steps ahead
And nearer to the end;
So that you too, once past the bend,
Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend
You fancy dead.
Push gaily on, strong heart! The while
You travel forward mile by mile,
He loiters with a backward smile
Till you can overtake,
And strains his eyes to search his wake,
Or whistling, as he sees you through the brake,
Waits on a stile.
-Robert Louis Stevenson
“Heugh” is a steep crag or cliff with overhanging sides.
Gladsome Lights 
What lovely verses! I haven’t seen it before. X
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I am pleased to be reminded of this poem.
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Consolation indeed. Thank you.
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I look for the resurrection of the dead, and of the life in the world to come…
Robert Louis Stevenson is amazing.
I have a friend who has basically become family over the years, though there’s only been a few years that we lived anywhere near each other. Does it sound weird to tell a person that you hope to see him in the next life? I mean, I certainly hope to see everybody there, but it just seems special in a way sometimes. I suppose that it also has to do with the fact that here he’s spent years in chronic pain, so the promise that the pain will be gone is a factor as well.
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