It may have been the pride in me for aught br I know, or just a patronizing whim; br But call it freak of fancy, or what not, br I cannot hide the hungry face of him. br br I keep a scant half-dozen words he said, br And every now and then I lose his name; br He may be living or he may be dead, br But I must have him with me all the same. br br I knew it and I knew it all along,-- br And felt it once or twice, or thought I did; br But only as a glad man feels a song br That sounds around a stranger's coffin lid. br br I knew it, and he knew it, I believe, br But silence held us alien to the end; br And I have now no magic to retrieve br That year, to stop that hunger for a friend.