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we know our friends.
We know our friends best when each hope is withered,
And wealth and joy have taken wings and fled,
When we look up and see each woe-cloud gather,
Darkly and densely, round our drooping head,
And, gazing round, perceive a few, few only
Of all who seemed sincere in brighter hours;
But when the chill blast came and all blew lonely,
Whose butterfly-like friendship fled the bowers,
From breath of penury and blighted flowers.
And wealth and joy have taken wings and fled,
When we look up and see each woe-cloud gather,
Darkly and densely, round our drooping head,
And, gazing round, perceive a few, few only
Of all who seemed sincere in brighter hours;
But when the chill blast came and all blew lonely,
Whose butterfly-like friendship fled the bowers,
From breath of penury and blighted flowers.
We know our friends are those who linger near us,
Unaltered still, in sunshine, storm, and shade;
Whose words of sympathy and kindness cheer us,
Reviving hopes and prospects long decayed.
E'en when our bark is tossed upon life's ocean,
Heaved by affliction's billows wild and drear—
When waves and winds combine in strong commotion
To sink the soul in agony and fear—
Then, ever-valued Friendship, thou can'st cheer!
Unaltered still, in sunshine, storm, and shade;
Whose words of sympathy and kindness cheer us,
Reviving hopes and prospects long decayed.
E'en when our bark is tossed upon life's ocean,
Heaved by affliction's billows wild and drear—
When waves and winds combine in strong commotion
To sink the soul in agony and fear—
Then, ever-valued Friendship, thou can'st cheer!
We know our friends: yes, when the hours of sadness,
Like the dark shadows of the night, steal down,
They cheer us with the hope of coming gladness,
When fickle Fortune will have ceased to frown.
And though it wounds us when we feel deserted,
And though by sense of wrong the heart's destroyed,
When solaced by the few and tender-hearted
Each bitter feeling slumbers in the breast,
Lull'd by the voice of Friendship into rest.
Like the dark shadows of the night, steal down,
They cheer us with the hope of coming gladness,
When fickle Fortune will have ceased to frown.
And though it wounds us when we feel deserted,
And though by sense of wrong the heart's destroyed,
When solaced by the few and tender-hearted
Each bitter feeling slumbers in the breast,
Lull'd by the voice of Friendship into rest.
