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We twa hae run about the braes,
We dreamed together of the days, the dreamAnd pu'd the gowans fine ;
bright days to come, But we've wandered mony a weary foot We were strictly confidential, and we called Sin' auld lang syne.
each other “chum." For auld, etc.
And many a day we wandered together o'er the We twa hae paidl't i' the burn,
hills, Frae mornin' sun till dine ;
I seeking bugs and butterflies, and she, tho But seas between us braid hae roared
ruined mills Sin' auld lang syne.
And rustic bridges, and the like, that pictureFor auld, etc.
To run in with their waterfalls, and groves, and And here's a hand, my trusty fiere,
summer skies. And gie's a hand o' thine ; And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught And many a quiet evening, in hours of silent For auld lang syne.
ease, For auld, etc.
We floated down the river, or strolled beneath
the trees, And surely ye 'll be your pint-stowp, And talked, in long gradation from the poets to And surely I'll be mine ;
the weather, And we 'll tak a cup o' kindness yet While the western skies and my cigar burned For auld lang syne.
slowly out together. For auld, etc.
Yet through it all no whispered word, no tell
tale glance or sigh, Told aught of warmer sentiment than friendly
We talked of love as coolly as we talked of
nebulæ, I HAD sworn to be a bachelor, she had sworn to And thought no more of being one than we did
be a maid, For we quite agreed in doubting whether matri
of being three. mony paid;
I took her hand, for Besides, we had our higher loves, - fair science “Well, good by, chum !"
the time had come to go. ruled my heart, And she said her young affections were all wound My going meant our parting, when to meet, we
did not know. up in art.
I had lingered long, and said farewell with a So we laughed at those wise men who say that for although we were but friends, 't is hard for
very heavy heart; friendship cannot live
honest friends to part. 'Twixt man and woman, unless each has some. thing more to give :
“Good-by, old fellow! don't forget your friends We would be friends, and friends as true as e'er
beyond the sea, were man and man;
And some day, when you 've lots of time, drop a I'd be a second David, and she Miss Jonathan.
line or two to me."
The words came lightly, gayly, but a great sob, We scorned all sentimental trash, - vows, kisses,
just behind, tears, and sighs ;
Welled upward with a story of quite a different High friendship, such as ours, might well such
kind. childish arts despise ; We liked each other, that was all, quite all there and then she raised her eyes to mine, - great was to say,
liquid eyes of blue, So we just shook hands upon it, in a business Filled to the brim, and running o'er, like violet sort of way.
cups of dew;
One long, long glance, and then I did, what I We shared our secrets and our joys, together
never did before hoped and feared,
Perhaps the tears meant friendship, but I'm With common purpose sought the goal that
sure the kiss meant inore. young Ambition reared ;
WILLIAM B TERRETT.
Burial f the Dead.
A TEMPLE TO FRIENDSHIP. Heaven gives us friends to bless the present
scene ; "A TEMPLE to Friendship," cried Laura, en- Resumes them, to prepare us for the next. chanted,
Night Thoughts. “I'll build in this garden ; the thought is di- 'T is sweet, as year by year we lose
vine." So the temple was built, and she now only How grows in Paradise our store.
Friends out of sight, in faith to muse wanted An image of Friendship, to place on the shrine.
I praise the Frenchman, * his remark was shrewd, So she few to the sculptor, who sat down before How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude ! her
But grant me still a friend in iny retreat, An image, the fairest his art could invent; Whom I may whisper, Solitude is sweet. But so cold, and so dull, that the youthful Retirement,
adorer Saw plainly this was not the Friendship she
CHOICE FRIENDS. meant.
True happiness “O, never," said she, “could I think of en. Consists not in the multitude of friends, shrining
But in the worth and choice. An image whose looks are so joyless and dim ; Cynthia's Revels.
BEN JONSON. But yon little god upon roses reclining, We'll make, if you please, sir, a Friendship of Burns with one love, with one resentment glows.
A generous friendship no cold medium knows, him."
HOMER, Pope's Trans.
Niad, Book ix.
So the bargain was struck ; with the little god Statesman, yet friend to truth ! of soul sincere, laden,
In action faithful, and in honor clear ; She joyfully flew to her home
Who broke no promise, served no private end, “Farewell,” said the sculptor, “you 're not the Who gained no title, and who lost no friend. first maiden
Epistle to Mr. Addison, Who came but for Friendship, and took away Like the stained web that whitens in the sun, Love !"
Grow pure by being purely shone upon.
Lalla Rookh : The Valed Prophet of Khorassan. T. MOORE.
Or gave his father grief but when he died.
Epitaph on the Hon. S. Harcourt.
Though last, not least, in love !
Julius Cæsar, Act iii. Sc. 1.
Friendship above all ties does bind the heart;
And faith in friendship is the noblest part.
Be kind to my remains ; and O, defend,
Against your judgment, your departed friend !
Epistle to Congreve.
O summer friendship, Flowers are lovely ; Love is flower-like ;
Whose flattering leaves, that shadowed us in Friendship is a sheltering tree;
Our prosperity, with the least gust drop off
The Maid of Honor.
MASSINGER Ere I was old! Youth and Age
• La Bruyère, says Bartlett.
EARL OF ORKERY.
S. T. COLERIDGE.
Like summer friends,
A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,
Julius Casar, Ac iv. Sc. 3.
What the declined is
A handsome house to lodge a friend,
A river at my garden's end.
Imitation of Horace, Book ii. Sat. 6.
Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. Is such a friend, that one had need
Odyssey, Book xy Translation of POPE.
Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round,
Where'er his stages may have been, Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe,
May sigh to think he still has found
The warmest welcome at an inn. Bold I can meet, — perhaps may turn his blow ;
Written on a Window of an Inn. But of all plagues, good Heaven, thy wrath can
send, Save, save, oh ! save me from the Candid Friend! And do as adversaries do in law,
Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. New Morality.
Taming of the Shrow, Act i. Sc. 2.
COMPLIMENT AND ADMIRATION.
FROM "TWELFTH NIGHT," ACT II. SC. 3.
WHEN IN THE CHRONICLE OF WASTED | How could he see to do them ? having made one, TIME.
Methinks it should have power to steal both his,
And leave itself unfurnished.
FROM "TWELFTH NIGHT," ACT I, SC. 5.
and white I see their antique pen would have expressed Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on : Even such a beauty as you master now.
Lady, you are the cruel’st she alive, So all their praises are but prophecies
If you will lead these graces to the grave,
And leave the world no copy.
TO MISTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY. Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to praise.
Gentle as falcon,
Or hawk of the tower ;
Much mirth and no madness,
All good and no badness ;
Far, far passing What is love? 't is not hereafter;
That I can indite,
Or suffice to write,
Of merry Margaret,
As midsummer flower,
Gentle as falcon
Or hawk of the tower;
As fair Isiphil,
Good Cassander ; Fair Portia's counterfeit? What demi-god
Stedfast of thought, Hath come so near creation ? Move these eyes?
Well made, well wrougr.is Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
Far may be sought Seem they in motion ? Here are severed lips,
Ere you can find Parted with sugar breath ; so sweet a bar
So courteous, so kind, Should sunder such sweet friends: Here in her
As merry Margaret, hairs
This midsummer Power, The painter plays the spider; and hath woven
Gentle as falcon, A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,
Or hawk of the tower. Faster than goats in cobwebs : But her eyes,
THE FORWARD VIOLET THUS DID
In all this world, as thinketh me,
As my sweet sweeting.
As my sweet sweeting.
The forward violet thus did I chide :
More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
If this fair rose offend thy sight,
Placed in thy bosom bare, 'T will blush to find itself less white,
And turn Lancastrian there.
THERE IS A GARDEN IN HER FACE.
FROM "AN HOURE'S RECREATION IN MUSICKE," 1606.
THERE is a garden in her face,
Where roses and white lilies blow ; A heavenly paradise is that place,
Wherein all pleasant fruits do grow ;
Of orient pearl a double row,
They look like rosebuds filled with snow;
Her brows like bended bows do stand, Threatening with piercing frowns to kill
All that approach with eye or hand These sacred cherries to come nigh, Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.
It was a beauty that I saw,
So pure, so perfect, as the frame
Of all the universe were lame To that one figure, could I draw, Or give least line of it a law :
A skein of silk without a knot !
A printed book without a blot!
GIVE PLACE, YE LOVERS.
MY SWEET SWEETING.
FROM A MS. TEMP. HENRY VIII.
GIVE place, ye lovers, here before
That spent your boasts and brags in vain ; My lady's beauty passeth more
The best of yours, I dare well sayen,
Ay, my sweet sweeting ;
My little pretty sweeting,
She is so proper and pure,
There is none such, you may be sure,
As my sweet sweeting.
And thereto hath a troth as just
As had Penelope the fair ; For what she saith, ye may it trust,
As it by writing sealed were :