Thank Fate for foes! I hold mine dear <br />As valued friends. He cannot know <br />The zest of life who runneth here <br />His earthly race without a foe. <br /> <br />I saw a prize, "Run," cried my friend; <br />"'T is thine to claim without a doubt." <br />But ere I half-way reached the end, <br />I felt my strength was giving out. <br /> <br />My foe looked on the while I ran; <br />A scornful triumph lit his eyes. <br />With that perverseness born in man <br />I nerved myself, and won the prize. <br /> <br />All blinded by the crimson glow <br />Of sin's disguise I tempted Fate. <br />"I knew thy weakness!" sneered my foe, <br />I saved myself, and balked his hate. <br /> <br />For half my blessings, half my gain, <br />I needs must thank my trusty foe; <br />Despite his envy and disdain, <br />He serves me well wher'er I go. <br /> <br />So may I keep him to the end, <br />Nor may his enmity abate; <br />More faithful that the fondest friend, <br />He guards me with his hate.<br /><br />Ella Wheeler Wilcox<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/foes/
