Friendship poems
Friendship poems, free to use for whatever you want. Read, put on a card or mug, print on a t-shirt or just print off and share. Whatever you need a poem for you can find it at poems 4 free.
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP BY ELLIS BELL
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?
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again,
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That, when December blights thy brow,
He still may leave thy garland green.
Poems by Currer, Ellis, and Acton Bell (AKA Charlotte, Emily and Anne Bronte)
THE FRIENDS
We were friends, and the warmest of friends, he and I,Each glance was a language that broke from the heart,
No cloudlet swept over the realm of the sky,
And beneath it we swore that we never would part.
Each bosom rebounded with youthful delight,
We were foremost to honour and strong to defend,
And Heaven, beholding, was charmed at the sight.
The sward in the vale was as down to the feet,
The far-rolling woodlands were pathless and wild,
And Nature was garbed in a grandeur complete.
Let us thus in the shade for a little remain,
For we may not return here ere boyhood is flown,
It may be we never shall meet so again.
Thy name by my own, they shall stand side by side"
And I hastened to do so with glee as he spoke,
And I gazed on the names with a feeling of pride.
What traced by the finger of Friendship is not?
Together they smiled on the trunk of the tree
And as brothers we stood on that sanctified spot.
For the sound was a sound as of something sad,
Like a wail that awakes in a breast ill at ease,
'Twas strange it should be so when all was so glad.
My way have I bent to my favourite tree,
But its branches resound with the self-same wail
Which seems to repeat "Where is _he_, where is _he_?"
And fashion the storm-beaten letters anew,
While lingering there as in summers of old,
That spot--it is sweet, it is dear to me too!
Like the leaves of the autumn have drifted apart,
And the voices that moan in that overgrown glen
Now melt into weeping the sorrowful heart.
The Minstrel: A Collection of Poems by Lennox Amott
AH, HAST THOU GONE?
Ah, hast thou gone from him whose breastBleeds with the thought we are apart,
Whose tears fall vainly and unblest,
Whose all--a crushed--a broken heart!
Where torrid suns the mountains burn,
Where parch the thirsty plains--yet say,
Oh, say thou wilt to me return.
O'er which I waft a sigh to thee,
Beyond the lurid sunset now
Ablaze upon the western sea.
That thought which Friendship cannot tell,
While flows the burning tear unsought,
He loved, alas, he loved too well.
No brighter vision e'er can lend,
Go, he will be to thee, my boy,
A brother--more than that--a friend.
The Minstrel: A Collection of Poems by Lennox Amott
