Friendship is that pure hallow'd light
That warms-but burns not with its rays ;
It is not passion's maddening flight -
It is not frenzy's frantic blaze.

It is the day-beam of the soul -
The calm content within the breast-
Each angry passion to control,
And lull each anxious care to rest.

As flies the magnet to the pole -
The same in darkness clouds and dearth,
So turns congenial soul to soul,
And Friendship's sunny light hath birth.

And when our course is nearly done,
And all our earthly trials past,
We turn to Friendship's setting sun,
And see it smiling to the last.