ON FRIENDSHIP.

The earth-born clod who hugs his idle pelf,
His only friends are Mammon and himself.
The drunken sots, who want the art to think,
Still cease from friendship when they cease from drink.
The empty fop, who scarce for man will pass,
Ne'er sees a friend but when he views his glass.

Friendship first springs from sympathy of mind,
Which to complete the virtues all combine,
And only found 'mongst men who can espy
The merits of his friend without envy.
Thus all pretending friendship 's but a dream,
Whose base is not reciprocal esteem.