|
Alas! they had been friends in youth, But whispering tongues can poison truth! And Constancy lives in realms above! And life is thorny, and Youth is vain! And to be wroth with one we love, Doth work like madness in the brain! They parted-ne'er to meet again! But never either found another To free the hollow heart from paining! They stood aloof, the cars remaining; Like cliffs which had been rent asunder! A dreary sea now flows between; But neither heat, nor frost, nor thunder, Shall wholly do away, I ween, The marks of that which once had been.
Samuel Taylor Coleridge
|
I would but I can't Anon |
|
Our Hands have met, but not our hearts, Our hands will never meet again. Friends, if we have ever been, Friends we cannot now remain; I only know I loved you once, I only know I loved in vain; Our hands have met, but not our hearts; Our hands will never meet again!
Then farewell to heart and hand! I would our hands had never met; Even the outward form of love Must be resign'd with some regret. Friends, we still might seem to be, If I my wrong could e'er forget; Our hands have join'd but not our hearts; I would our hands had never met!
Thomas Hood |
|
And Let your best be for your friend, If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know it's flood also. For what is your friend that you should seek him with hour to kill ? Seek him always with hours to live. For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness. And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures. For in the dew of little things the heart finds it's morning and is refreshed.
Your friend is your needs answered. He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving. And he is your board and your fireside. For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.
Kahlil Gibran |
Your words came just when needed.
Like a breeze,
Blowing and bringing from the wide salt sea
Some cooling spray, to meadow scorched with heat
And choked with dust and clods of sifted sand
That hateful whirlwinds, envious of it's bloom,
Had tossed upon it. But the cool sea breeze
Came laden with the odors of the sea
And damp with spray, that laid the dust and sand
And brought new life and strength to blade and bloom
So words of thin came over miles to me,
Fresh from the mighty sea, a true friend's heart,
And brought me hope, and strength, and swept away
The dusty webs that human spiders spun
Across my path. Friend-and the word means much-
So few there are who reach like thee, a hand
Up over all the barking curs of spite
And give the clasp, when most it's need is felt,
Friend, newly found, accept my full heart's thanks
|
My father often used to say: "My boy don't throw a thing away: You'll find a use for it some day."
So in a box he stored up things, Bent nails, old washers, pipes and rings, and bolts and nuts and rusty springs.
Despite each blemish and each flaw, Some use for everything he saw; With things material, this was law.
And often when he'd work to do, He searched the junk box through and through And found old stuff as good as new.
And I have often thought since then, That father did the same with men; He knew he'd need their help again.
It seems to me he understood That men, as well as iron and wood, May broken be and still be good.
Despite the vices he'd display He never threw a man away, But kept him for another day.
A human junk box is this earth And into it we're tossed at birth, To wait the day we'll be of worth.
Though bent and twisted weak of will, And full of flaws and lacking skill, Some service each can render still.
Edgar Guest |
|
Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, and these are gold. New-made friendships, like new wine, Age will mellow and refine. Friendships that have stood the test- Time and change-are surely best; Brow may wrinkle, hair grow gray; Friendship never knows decay. For 'mid old friends, tried and true, Once more w our youth renew. But old friends, alas! may die; New friends must their place supply. Cherish friendship in your breast- New is good, but old is best; Make new friends, but keep the old; Those are silver, these are gold. Joseph Parry |
If I knew you and you knew me-
If both of us could clearly see,
And with an inner sight divine
The meaning of your heart and mine-
I'm sure that we would differ less
And clasp our hands in friendliness;
Our thoughts would pleasantly agree
If I knew you, and you knew me.
If I knew you and you knew me,
As each one knows his own self, we
Could look each other in the face
And see therein a truer grace.
Life ahs so many hidden woes,
So many thorns for every rose;
The "why" of things our hearts would see,
If I knew you and you knew me.
Nixon Waterman
No Man is an Island, entire of itself; Every man is a piece of the continent, A part of the main; ...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.
From Devotions XVII John Donne |