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,Its 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.