Friendship

Friendship, how sweet! how comely dost thou seem! But art thou aught indeed, besides a dream? A pleasing dream, where mines of wealth we own; But, by distress awak'd, we find our comfort flown:

Yet have I read amongst the poets tales What mighty things have been by friendship done; Or if the world of fiction naught avails, View Israel's royal youth and Jesse's son:

Their love above the love of women rose, Etherial flame, purg'd from each grosser fire, Their bosoms throb'd with the same joys and woes, Like notes accordant from th' harmonious lyre.

Barometers alike thus rise and fall, Elate with sunshine, or by clouds deprest, The same sublime affection moves on all; So friendship acts upon the social breast.

But most, like pasteboard figures, seem t' agree, Which when the sky is neither foul nor fair, At neighbouring doors, in kindly amity, Partake the common privilege of air;

But if, perchance, the brightening sky should clear, And Phoebus spread his shining tresses wide, Or threatning cloud drop some foreboding tear, Far as they can the former friends divide.

And some there are, I ween, who, like the sun, Cheer the fair opening bud with friendly gleam; But, when expanded wide, its beauties shun, Or envious wither with oppressive beam.

Others, like wanton dames, exhaust their charms On all alike, nor heed th' intrinsic worth, And lose, within a thousand different arms, What one alone had foster'd into birth.

Some, like the tuneful tenants of the shade, A fond and close, but short alliance make, The purpose serv'd which first their union made, A long farewel the future strangers take.

Others (whom fortune blast) with smooth-tongued guile, The unsuspecting social heart betray, Like treacherous Syrens murdering with a smile, Like comets blazing with malignant ray.

Amid this threatning deluge, far outspread, Where shall the faithful dove of friendship rest? Return, sweet bird, to thy domestic shed, The poets age, and miracles are ceas'd.

Ah, yet return not! spread thy pinions wide, No labour spare; encompass land and sea; Let naught th' inestimable jewel hide, Find me a friend, if any friend there be:

Nay, better thou should'st suffer fair deceit, Than solitary to my breast return; Who dreams of pleasure is not so complete A wretch, as he who only wakes to mourn.