THOU dost not need that verse of mine Should speak my thanks, or paint thy worth; And yet a friendship firm as thine May bear what gratitude gives birth. Thou art not like those flowers that ask The aid of art, as frail as fair; Which in conservatories bask, But wither in the open air: These stem no storm, and brook no blast; Though bright their blossoming may be; Their perfume pleases, and is past; And can such things be types of thee? They cannot! But I've seen, ere now, On some wild ruin, moss'd and grey; A flower as fair, as sweet as thou, Blessing with bloom its latest day. And while its loveliness has lent Fresh beauty to that mouldering wall, It seem'd as if its sweets were sent To make up for the loss of all. The winds might howl, the ruin rock; It flourish'd fearlessly, and fair; It shrunk not from the impending shock; It spoke defiance to despair. And thus, in seasons dark and drear, When I have felt, how oft, alas! With many a mute, foreboding fear, The ruin of what once I was; Thy friendship, like that faithful flower, Surviving much, defying all, Has caus'd on sorrow's saddest hour Some streaks of happier hue to fall. Heaven bless thee for it! and believe That he who bids the gentle dew Refresh the wall-flower every eve, And morning sunbeams warm it too; O doubt not HE will doubly bless What purest friendship hath inspir'd; And, for its worth, and faithfulness, Return what it hath not requir'd. And long may I, by fate bereft Of much, most justly dear to me; Still fondly learn its frowns have left For soothing thoughts, a theme in thee! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPHS OF THE WAR, 1914-18: THE COWARD by RUDYARD KIPLING THE HUMOURS O' GLESKA FAIR by JOHN BRECKENRIDGE THE BUSH-SPARROW by JOHN BURROUGHS MEN WERE DECEIVERS EVER by CALLIMACHUS A WALK THROUGH THE SNOW by ALICE CARY MEMORY by ARTHUR NEWBERRY CHOYCE |