The Ewie wi' the Crooked Horn/On Friendship
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For other versions of this work, see On Friendship.
ON FRIENDSHIP.
The world, my dear Myra, is full of deceit,
And friendship's a jewel we seldom can meet,
How strange does it seem that in searching around,
That source of content is so rare to be found!
O Friendship! thou balm and rich sweet'ner of life,
Kind parent of ease and composer of strife;
Without thee, alas! what are riches and pow'r,
But empty delusion, the joys of an hour.
And friendship's a jewel we seldom can meet,
How strange does it seem that in searching around,
That source of content is so rare to be found!
O Friendship! thou balm and rich sweet'ner of life,
Kind parent of ease and composer of strife;
Without thee, alas! what are riches and pow'r,
But empty delusion, the joys of an hour.
How much to be priz'd and esteem'd is a friend,
On whom we may always with safety depend;
Our joys when extended will always increase,
And griefs, when divided, are hush'd into peace.
When fortune is smiling what crowds will appear,
Their kindness to offer, and friendship sincere;
Yet change but the prospect and point out distress,
No longer to court you they eagerly press.
On whom we may always with safety depend;
Our joys when extended will always increase,
And griefs, when divided, are hush'd into peace.
When fortune is smiling what crowds will appear,
Their kindness to offer, and friendship sincere;
Yet change but the prospect and point out distress,
No longer to court you they eagerly press.
FINIS.