Classic Poem

We rode a day, from east, from west,
To meet. A year had done its best,
By absence, and by loss of speech,
To put beyond the other's reach
Each heart and life; but, drawing nigh,
“Ah! it is you!” “Yes, it is I!”
We said; and love had been blasphemed
And slain in each had either deemed
Need of more words, or joy more plain
When eyes had looked in eyes again:
Ah friendship, stronger in thy might
Than time and space, as faith than sight!
Rich festival with thy red wine
My friend and I will keep in courts divine!