Sweet friendship, angel of the the earth,
The Sweetest gift to man e'er given;
With Seraphs thou hast had thy birth,
Descended from the halls of Heaven.
Lady I seek no fickle friend,
I seek no friendships of a day;
Not those I love, whose love will end,
And pass like Summer buds away.
No Friendship I in man can find,
For man to man is faithless ever,
But womans gentle generous mind,
Will ne'er forget O never, never.
On her my bosem can rely,
Her faith is firm. I cannot fear,
Theres' no deceit in her soft sigh,
There is no thechr'y - in her tear.
Thro' all the ills of life the same,
No change her gentle heart can know.
She loves thro' sorrow, and thro' Shame,
In Happiness, or weal, or woe.
Lady be thou my gentle friend,,
Remember me when years are past,
For thee my friendship knows no end,
Thro' time my love for thee shall last,
signed "H.C.J. / Balto. March 13th 1842"
