Such as the drunkard knows not--proud resolves
Emboldening to despair
Whate'er the sage disowns.
Delightful thrills against the panting heart
Fame's silver voice--and immortality
Is a great thought....
But sweeter, fairer, more delightful, 'tis
On a friend's arm to know oneself a friend....
O were ye here, who love me though afar ...
How would we build us huts of friendship, here