The pleasures
of friendship are exquisite,
How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit!
I go to my friend, we walk on the grass,
And the hours and moments like minutes pass
Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree --
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most contantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who wil call the wild-briar fair?
IThen scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
What eagle look still shows,
While up from my heart's root
So great a sweetness flows
I shake from head to foot.
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