For when my sun doth deign to rise,
Though it be her noontide,
Her fairest field in shadow lies,
Nor can my light abide.
Sometimes I bask me in her day,
Conversing with my mate,
But if we interchange one ray,
Forthwith her heats abate.
Through his discourse I climb and see,
As from some Eastern hill,
A brighter morrow rise to me
Than lieth in her skill.
As 't were two Summer days in one,
Two Sundays come together,
Our rays united make one sun
With fairest Summer weather.
As surely as the sunset in my latest November shall translate me to the ethereal world, and remind me of the ruddy morning of youth; as surely as the last strain of music which falls on my decaying ear shall make age to be forgotten, or, in short, the manifold influences of nature survive during the term of our natural life, so surely my Friend shall forever be my Friend, and reflect a ray of God to me, and time shall foster and adorn and consecrate our Friendship, no less than the ruins of temples 
As I love Nature, as I love singing birds, and gleaming stubble, and flowing rivers, and morning and evening, and Summer and Winter, I love thee, my Friend.
But all that can be said of Friendship is like botany to flowers. How can the understanding take account of its friendliness?
Even the death of Friends will inspire us as
