We met by chance or whimsy
At a parting of the way;
Matched in grace and gifts,
We chose twixt night and day.
An inkling of the dawn
Sparked hope within my eye;
All that lay before you
Was blackness sere and dry.
Was it my soul or wisdom,
Or heart, or other good,
That let me see the sunlight
In the dark where we both stood?
A criminal, mire-spattered,
clad in a past of sin:
how could I lay my choice
at the feet of good within?
No, we stood alike in merit,
Had walked the selfsame road;
But mere luck to me vouchsafed
Less permanent a load.
For those whose fate is settled,
day still means bitter lives;
Why should they not choose night,
and gamble with their knives?
Brother, I salute you
In memory of a man
Whose qualities I honor
and fate I understand.
