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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 paidi't i' the burn,

hills, Frae mornin' sun till dine ;

I seeking bugs and butterflies, and she, the But seas between us braid hae roared

ruined mills Sin' auld lang syne.

And rustic bridges, and the like, that pictureFor auld, etc.

makers prize

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. ROBERT BURNS. Yet through it all no whispered word, no tell

tale glance or sigh, Told aught of warmer sentiment than friendly

sympathy. PLATONIC.

We talked of love as coolly as we talked of

nebulæ, I HAD sworn to be a bachelor, she had sworn to be a maid,

" | And thought no more of being one than we did For we quite agreed in doubting whether matri

of being three. mony paid ; Besides, we had our higher loves, --- fair science

Well, good by, chum !” I took her hand, for

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

very heavy heart;

For although we were but friends, 't is hard for friendship cannot live

honest friends to part. 'Twixt man and woman, unless each has something 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." We scorned all sentimental trash, -vows, kisses,

The words came lightly, gayly, but a great sob,

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, With common purpose sought the goal that

sure the kiss meant more. young Ambition reared ;

WILLIAM B. TERRETT.

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KEBLE.

laden,

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.

YOUNG, “I'll build in this garden ; the thought is di

’T is sweet, as year by year we lose

; vine.”

Friends out of sight, in faith to muse So the temple was built, and she now only

How grows in Paradise our store. wanted

Burial of the Dead. An image of Friendship, to place on the shrine.

I praise the Frenchman,* his remark was shrewd, So she flew to the sculptor, who sat down before How sweet, how passing sweet is solitude ! her

But grant me still a friend in my 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.

COWPER. adorer Saw plainly this was not the Friendship she meant.

CHOICE FRIENDS.

True happiness “0, 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; 1 Cynthia's Revels.

BEN JONSON. But yon little god upon roses reclining, We'll make, if you please, sir, a Friendship of

| A generous friendship no cold medium knows,

Burns with one love, with one resentment glows. him.”

Iliad, Book ix.

HOMER, Pope's Trans. So the bargain was struck ; with the little god Statesman, yet friend to truth ! of soul sincere,

In action faithful, and in honor clear ; She joyfully flew to her home in the grove. 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.

POPE. Who came but for Friendship, and took away,

Like the stained web that whitens in the sun, Love !"

THOMAS MOORE.

Grow pure by being purely shone upon.

Lalla Rookh : The Veiled Prophet of Khorassan. T. MOORE.
Who ne'er knew joy but friendship might divide,

Or gave his father grief but when he died.
FRAGMENTS.
Epitaph on the Hon. S. Harcourt.

POPE.
Though last, not least, in love!
FRIENDSHIP.

Fulius Cæsar, Act iii. Sc. I.
Friendship! mysterious cement of the soul !
Sweet'ner of life ! and solder of society!

FAITHFUL FRIENDS.
The Grave.

R. BLAIR.

Friendship above all ties does bind the heart; Friendship is the cement of two minds,

And faith in friendship is the noblest part. As of one man the soul and body is ;

Henry V.

EARL OF ORRERY. Of which one cannot sever but the other Suffers a needful separation.

Be kind to my remains; and 0, defend,
Revenge.

GEO. CHAPMAN. | Against your judgment, your
| Against your judgment, your departed friend !

DRYDEN,

Epistle to Congreve.
Friendship's the image of
Eternity, in which there's nothing
Movable, nothing mischievous.

SUMMER FRIENDS.
Endymion.

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
O the Joys, that came down shower-like, In the autumn of adversity.
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,

SHAKESPEARE.

ave.

LILLY.

The Maid of Honor,
Ere I was old !
S. T. COLERIDGE.

* La Bruyère, says Bartlett.

MASSINGER.

Youth and Age

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Like summer friends,
Flies of estate and sunneshine.
The Answer.

GEORGE HERBERT.

| A friend should bear his friend's infirmities, But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Fulius Cæsar, Act iv. Sc. 3.

SHAKESPEARE.

HOMER.

SHENSTONE,

SHAKESPEARE.

What the declined is He shall as soon read in the eyes of others

HOSPITALITY. As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies, 17)

mes. I've often wished that I had clear, Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.

For life, six hundred pounds a year, Troilus and Cressida, Act iii, Sc. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

A handsome house to lodge a friend,

A river at my garden's end.
FRIENDS TO BE SHUNNED.

Imitation of Horace, Book ii. Sat. 6.

SWIFT. The man that hails you Tom or Jack, And proves, by thumping on your back, True friendship's laws are by this rule exprest, His sense of your great merit,

Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. Is such a friend, that one had need

Odyssey, Book xv. Translation of POPE.
Be very much his friend indeed
To pardon, or to bear it.

Whoe'er has travelled life's dull round,
On Friendship.

COWPER. Where'er his stages may have been, Give me the avowed, the erect, the manly foe, I

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,

And do as adversaries do in law, Save, save, oh ! save me from the Candid Friend!

Strive mightily, but eat and drink as friends. New Morality.

GEORGE CANNING.

Taming of the Shrew, Act i. Sc. 2.
FRIENDSHIP AND LOVE.

Sir, you are very welcome to our house :
Friendship is constant in all other things,

It must appear in other ways than words, Save in the office anà affairs of love.

Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. Much Ado about Nothing, Act ii. Sc. I. SHAKESPEARE.

The Merchant of Venice, Act v. Sc. I. SHAKESPEARE. If I speak to thee in Friendship's name, Thou think'st I speak too coldly;

Good COUNSEL. If I mention Love's devoted flame,

Neither a borrower nor a lender be, Thou say'st I speak too boldly.

For loan oft loses both itself and friend.
How Shall I W00?

T. MOORE.
Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3.

SHAKESPEARE.
Friendship, like love, is but a name,
Unless to one you stint the flame.

Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar :

The friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, 'Tis thus in friendship ; who depend

Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel. On many rarely find a friend.

Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 3.

SHAKESPEARE. The Hare and Many Friends.

GAY.

Turn him, and see his threads : look if he be
Friend to himself, that would be friend to thee:

For that is first required, a man be his own ;
I have shot mine arrow o'er the house,
And hurt my brother.

BEN JONSON.
Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2.
SHAKESPEARE.

Lay this into your breast : Brother, brother, we are both in the wrong. Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best. The Beggar's Opera, Act ii. Sc. 2. GAY. I Duchess of Malfy.

JOHN WEBSTER.

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COMPLIMENT AND ADMIRATION.

SHAKESPEARE.

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SHAKESPEARE.

SHAKESPEARE,

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,
SONNET Cvi.

And leave itself unfurnished.
WHEN in the chronicle of wasted time
I see descriptions of the fairest wights,

OLIVIA.
And beauty making beautiful old rhyme,
In praise of ladies dead, and lovely knights ;

FROM “TWELFTH NIGHT," ACT I. SC. 5.
Then, in the blazon of sweet beauty's best VIOLA. 'T is beauty truly blent, whose red
Of hand, of foot, of lip, of eye, of brow,

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,
Of this our time, all you prefiguring;

And leave the world no copy.
And, for they looked but with divining eyes,
They had not skill enough your worth to sing ;
For we, which now behold these present days,

TO MISTRESS MARGARET HUSSEY.
Have eyes to wonder, but lack tongues to
praise.

MERRY Margaret,
As midsummer flower,

Gentle as falcon,
O MISTRESS MINE.

Or hawk of the tower ;

With solace and gladness,
FROM "TWELFTH NIGHT," ACT II. SC. 3.

Much mirth and no madness,
O MISTRESS mine, where are you roaming ?

All good and no badness ;
0, stay and hear! your true-love's coming

So joyously,
That can sing both high and low ;

So maidenly,
Trip no further, pretty sweeting,

So womanly
Journeys end in lovers' meeting, -

Her demeaning,
Every wise man's son doth know.

In everything

Far, far passing
What is love ? 't is not hereafter;

That I can indite,
Present mirth hath present laughter;

Or suffice to write,
What's to come is still unsure:

Of merry Margaret,
In delay there lies no plenty, —

As midsummer flower,
Then come kiss me, Sweet-and-twenty,

Gentle as falcon
Youth 's a stuff will not endure.

Or hawk of the tower ;
As patient and as still,
And as full of good-will,

As fair Isiphil,
PORTIA'S PICTURE.

Coliander,
FROM "THE MERCHANT OF VENICE," ACT III. SC. 2.

Sweet Pomander,
FAIR Portia's counterfeit ? What demi-god

Good Cassander ;

Stedfast of thought, Hath come so near creation ? Move these eyes?

Well made, well wrought; 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 flower, 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 gnats in cobwebs : But her eyes, - |

SHAKESPEARE.

JOHN SKELTON.

THE FORWARD VIOLET THUS DID

I CHIDE.

In all this world, as thinketh me,
Is none so pleasant to my e'e,
That I am glad so oft to see,

As my sweet sweeting.
When I behold my sweeting sweet,
Her face, her hands, her minion feet,
They seem to me there is none so mete,

As my sweet sweeting.

THE forward violet thus did I chide :-
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet

that smells,
If not from my love's breath? the purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells,
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stolen thy hair:
The roses fearfully on thorns did stand,
One blushing shame, another white despair;
A third, nor red nor white, had stolen of both,
And to this robbery had annexed thy breath;
But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth
A vengeful canker eat him up to death.
More flowers I noted, yet I none could see,
But sweet or color it had stolen from thee.

SHAKESPEARE.

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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 ; There cherries grow that none may buy, Till cherry-ripe themselves do cry.

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Those cherries fairly do enclose

Of orient pearl a double row,
Which when her lovely laughter shows,

They look like rosebuds filled with snow;
Yet them no peer nor prince may buy,
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 fair march made without a halt!
A curious form without a fault !

A printed book without a blot !
All beauty!- and without a spot.

BEN JONSON.

Her eyes like angels watch them still,

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.

RICHARD ALLISON.

GIVE PLACE, YE LOVERS.

MY SWEET SWEETING.
FROM A MS. TEMP. HENRY VIII.
Ah, my sweet sweeting;

My little pretty sweeting,
My sweeting will I love wherever I go ;

She is so proper and pure,
Full, steadfast, stable, and demure,

There is none such, you may be sure,

As my sweet sweeting.

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, Than doth the sun the candle-light, Or brightest day the darkest night.

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 :

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