A Letter to a Friend

Sometime this Query risoth in my Mind, Can Friends be to each other so unkind, Thus to perplex, and yet not shew the Cause Why Friendship should admit so long a Pause? Hath Graneur sturisy'd thy fertile Quill, Or Mammon metamorphos'd thus thy Will? So condescending formerly, and kind, As if to Love and Friendship most inclin'd. Methinks ahundance of such outward Store Should ne'r abridge our Time, but gain us more. Not that Wealth can add Number to our Days; But Time (wherein the Indigent may raise Some Stipend, to procure their daily Food) Might be improv'd, as for a mutual Good, By such as have obtain'd a full Supply; Or else wherein doth the Advantage lie Betwixt the Rich and Poor? Heaven still extends Bread, to sustain each to their latter ends. Then should not those, that greater Mercy share, Some Time for Friendship's Privileges spare? But should my Grief by Words be thus express'd? I'll cease to write, and only Sigh the rest; For since my Letters may not answer'd be, I may conclude, that all is Vanity.