So few are they, since Time had birth,
For Friendship true renown'd;

That scarce a name, adorning earth,
Within an age is found.

Their love, with wonder and applause,
Succeeding times admire ;

As something passing Nature's laws,
Rare, as the comet's fire,

O Friendship, thus, in humble song,
I would thy pow'r display;
But few among the vulgar throng,
Can understand the lay.

Amidst this scene of sordid strife,
O purify my breast;

Come, fit me for a better life,
And commerce with the blest,

THE ANSWER.

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.

BY W. PRESTON, ESQ.

YES, Friendship is a sov'ran good;
I own it's mighty pow'r.

My soul it's worth has understood,
In many a trying hour,

I know the joy thou canst impart,
O spark of heav'nly flame;

And never shall the grateful heart
Renounce thy hallow'd claim.

Yet still, within my secret soul,
Remains a weary void;

I find, renouncing Love's controul,
A feeling unemploy'd.

In sorrows oft the Friend we try,
The Brother sooths the mind:
But, oh! how weak the manly tie,
To those that females bind!

All sober thought, all selfish aims,
For Love they can despise ;

Thro' storm, contagion, death, and flames,
Enamour'd woman flies.

Some fitting object, from above,
For ev'ry sense is giv'n;

And, sure, the renegade from Love
Resists the doom of Heav'n.

To deck the female form and mind,
Did Heav'n exhaust its power;
To make a trinket more refin'd,
Th' amusement of an hour?

No-wiser, better far the plan,
That lavish'd ev'ry grace,
To deck the softer friend of man,
The blessing of our race.

Full oft has Friendship warm'd my heart,
And still its worth I prove:

But ne'er could Friendship joys impart
Like tender Woman's love.

There is a sweetness, and a charm,

Mere Friendship cannot know;

When heart to heart beats quick and warm, And meeting eyes o'erflow.

Nor let the leaden spirit dare

To boast he Friendship feels,

Who Woman views supremely fair,

And yet his bosom steels.

For, when the heart to Friendship's sway

Is harmoniz'd above,

It sure has travell'd half the way

To reach the sphere of LovE.

True Love enhances Friendship's joy,

With varied charms combin'd;

And bids the mutual wish employ

The senses, and the mind.

The Poet oft capricious sings,

And idle wit displays,

To magnify the meanest things,

And what is good dispraise;

Not that I Friendship would decry,

The cordial of the soul:

But Friendship's sway must never vie,
With Love's supreme controul.

Thro' ev'ry clime, and ev'ry age,
His mighty reign extends;

The proudest Chief, the wisest Sage,
To Love submissive bends.

When Noontide sends her arrows round,

And Summer's sway prevails,

Go, doubt if light and heat are found
In beams that gild the vales.

Go-doubt, if elements are good;
And harmony of things,

If useful is th' etherial flood,
And useful seas, and springs.

And censure then in cynic mood,

With living kind at strife,
That element of general good,
That bond of social life.

What treasure can the mine impart

In ore and precious stone,

To reach the treasure of a heart,

Devoted, and my own?

What beauteous tint can Nature show

In earth, or heav'n above,

To reach the sweet etherial glow

Of soft consenting Love?

Behold the beauteous ev'ning star,

And moon adorn the sky:

More soft the light, and beauteous far,

That beams from Woman's eye,

How bright the rays of morning shine
O'er dewy vale and hills!

But brighter Woman's glance divine,
Her eye when Pity fills.

Attractive is the meadow's face

With flow'rs of every kind;

But more attractive female grace,

More sweet the female mind.

Great are the joys that Friendships prove,

And Kindred can impart :

But what are they to joys of Love?
Speak-ye, who have a heart.

Ev'n rudest tribes that never felt,
In warfare nurst and storm,

Believ'd that something sacred dwelt
In Woman's heav'nly form.

And something sacred dwells indeed,
We find the notion just!

Th' immediate hand of Heav'n we read,
In Woman's sacred trust.

Lo-Heav'n thro' her the sacred stream
For Infancy supplies;

Or where had been the Poet's theme,
Th' heroic Good and Wise ?

What motives Woman's smile supplies,

To prompt the manly toil!—
And, when the storms of Fate arise,
What comfort in her smile!-