Love and Friendship

Love is like the wild rose-briar,

Friendship like the holly-tree -

The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms'

But which will bloom most constantly?

The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring,

It's summer blossoms scent the air.

Yet wait till winter comes again

And who will call the wild-briar fair?

Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now

And deck thee with the holly's sheen,

That when December blights thy brow

He still may leave thy garland green.