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The Debtor

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Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D.C. · Sep 28, 1905

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 82, No. 39.

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The Debtor

By Annie R. Stillman

THE dearest of my friends to-day Spoke wistfully: “I have a friend Who, in more ways than I may tell, Hath served me well; But he doth owe a debt he can not pay, And there is none to lend.”
Eager, I cried: “Thy friends are mine! Speak but his name, ere time is lost. What is his score? Whom doth he owe? My gold shall flow To ease his care, whose care, O Lord, is thine; Nor will I grudge the cost.”
“And is thy love so great?” He sighed, And turned from me, and, stooping, wrote— As once of old—with kingly hand Upon the sand, The while I waited, wond’ring, full of pride, Impatient to devote.
At last he rose, and looked at me; His eyes were flames that burned through tears. “Who cancels this, serves me,” he said. I knelt and read— For the last time—thy name, mine enemy, And that old wrong of years.
—Annie R. Stillman, in the Outlook.