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One Friend

Many clouds do race to hide Thee –

 

Of friends and wealth and fame –

 

And yet through mist of tears I see

 

Appear Thy Golden Name.

 

Each time my father, mother, friends

 

Do loudly claim they did me tend,

 

I wake from sleep to sweetly hear

 

That Thou alone didst help me here.

p
Written by
Paramahansa Yogananda
1893-1952 / Indian
Lines·Words
8·54
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