There is a hand hath power to cheer
Each
wounded heart and sorrowing breast;
Wipe from the mourner's eye the
tear;
And give
the weary spirit rest:
That hand is friendship's - may its
power
be felt
by all in sorrow's hour.
There is a stream that gently glides
Amid the
hills and dales of time
A stream which knows no changing
tides,
Whose
wavelets sweet music chime:
That stream is friendship's silvery
tide,
O may it
e'er in beauty glide.
There is a fount whose waters bright
Forever
gush, the soul to cheer;
To give the thirsty mind delight,
And
dissipate each lingering fear:
That fount is friendship - those who
drink
Love
long to linger on its brink.
There is a star whose radiance
bright
Will
beam through all the storms of life;
Will guide us through life's darkest
night,
Though
with the fiercest tempests rife.
That star is friendship - may it
shine
Till all
shall see its light divine.
There is a flower which e'er shall
bloom,
That
never bloomed to fade and die;
Whose beauty lives beyond the tomb,
To grace
immortal bowers on high.
That flower is friendship fresh and
fair,
May all
at last its fragrance share.
There is a gem, whose lustre far
Outshines the richest, proudest gem
That e'er adorned a tiara,
Or
sparkled in a diadem.
That gem is friendship - sweetly set
In each
immortal crown.
Such is the
friendship, which I crave,
If such can
here, be given.
S.M. Edelen
