Poems (Hornblower)/Friendship

by Jane Elizabeth Roscoe Hornblower

For works with similar titles, see Friendship.

FRIENDSHIP.

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How sweet it is in grief to see
 The eyes we love all wet with tears,
Fresh from those founts of sympathy,
 That mingle with our hopes and fears.

How sweet it is to hear the heart,
 On which we long have leaned our own,
The holiest hopes and truths impart,
 With tenderness in every tone.

We weep indeed—hut friendship pours
 A solace on our hour of woe,
And changes those weak earthly showers
 Into affection's purest glow.

Pressed from the bitterness of pain,
 Do strength, and trust, and courage rise,
And then we find 't is not in vain
 We nurse those sacred sympathies.

In doubt—in danger—thus we see
 She kindles up her generous flame,
And points us to Eternity,
 The glorious source from whence she came.

She leads the fainting spirit there,
 From scenes with earthly anguish full;
And heaven's high hope becomes more clear,
 And life itself more beautiful.

Oh! guide us on, oh! light us still,
 Oh! shield us through this vale of tears;
Om- hearts with hope and patience fill,
 And soothe to peace our closing years.

We will not ask a lengthened day;
 Another hour we would not live,
Than while thy smile should bless our way,
 Thy voice its touching comfort give.

Thy hand shall close the drooping eye,
 Thy trust shall still the throbbing breast,
And thine shall be the latest sigh
 That wafts us to the realms of rest.