The Cross-Roads

Once more I write a line to you, While darker shadows fall; Dear friends of mine who have been true, And steadfast through it all. If I have written bitter rhymes, With many lines that halt, And if I have been false at times It was not all my fault. To Heaven’s decree I would not bow, And I sank very low— The bitter things are written now, And we must let them go. But I feel softened as I write; The better spirit springs, And I am very sad to-night Because of many things. The friendships that I have abused, The trust I did betray, The talents that I have misused, The gifts I threw away. The things that did me little good, And—well my cheeks might burn— The kindly letters that I should Have answered by return. But you might deem them answered now, And answered from my heart; And injured friends will understand ’Tis I who feel the smart. But I have done with barren strife And dark imaginings, And in my future work and life Will seek the better things.