Judge not my passion, by my want of skill, Many love well, though they express it ill. |
Thirst of wealth no quiet knows, But near the death-bed fierce grows. |
What is Friendship when complete? 'Tis to share all joy and grief; 'Tis to lend all due relief From the tongue, the heart, the hand; 'Tis to mortgage house and land; For a friend be sold a slave; 'Tis to die upon a grave, If a friend therein do lie. |