True Friends are rare: who counts them by the score

Is blest indeed, for we have, seldom, more.

If we possess just one real, trusting friend

Who shares our troubles, loyal to the end;

Who, when we fall, will help us to our feet;

Who finds with us contentment most complete;

Whose pocket-book and heart are open thrown

Whether we need affection or a loan,

And makes no record of the favor done,

But gives, with equal pleasure, either one—

That's Friendship true! If I had twenty such,

With all their purses open to my touch,

And each disposed to "stake" me and forget

The circumstance and measure of the debt,

I'd soon be on the road to ease and plenty,

But wish I had such friendships more than twenty.