My friend peers in on me with merry
Wise face, and though the sky stay dim,
The very light of day, the very
Sun's self comes in with him.

--_A. C. Swinburne_.

* * * * *

O sweeter than the honey well,
Deep in the sweetest rose of June,
And all sweet things the tongue can tell
On clover-scented afternoon,
Is friendship that has lived for years
Through fortune, failure, and through tears.

Though he who wears it sacredly
Be swarted like the rafters are
That shelter him, eternity
May hold few jewels half so rare!
And God will find for such a friend
Some sweeter slumber in the end.

--_Botsford_.

* * * * *

Still, Love a summer sunrise shines,
So rich its clouds are hung,