Oh! Friendship, sweetest, exquisite delight,
For fine according spirits form'd alone!
'Tis thine our feeling bosoms to unite,
And youthful hearts thy melting ardours own.
To give the mind its animated glow,
Kindle the languid virtues to a flame,
To bid the genial tear of pity flow,
To raise the "blushes of ingenuous shame,"
These arts, oh! child of sympathy, are thine;
And I will bless thy consecrated power;
Will pour my early offering at thy shrine,
And oft invoke thee in the pensive hour.
Ah! when our brightest prospects fade away,
And Hope shall cease her glowing hues to blend:
Then, when the bright illusive scenes decay,
'Tis then we prove the blessings of a friend.
Diffuse thy influence o'er my youthful mind,
The artless song I dedicate to thee;
What pleasing sorrows oft in thee we find,
Oh! child of tender sensibility.
With thee in pensive pleasure I would melt;
To me thy raptures, thy endearments give:
Oh! ye, who these according joys have felt,
Say, with a generous friend, how sweet to grieve.
Oh! yes, we love our sorrows to impart,
And meet our comfort from a kindred heart;
The elevated soul, by thee refin'd,
Once to thy dear enchanting sway resign'd,
Shall ever pour the genuine vow to thee,
Oh! child of tender sensibility.