And to the young and withering herb resigns
The drops for which it pines:
So are fraternal peace and concord ever
The cherishers without whose guidance, never
Would sainted quiet seek the breast,—
The life, the soul of unmolested rest,—
The antidote to sorrow and distress,
And prop of human happiness.
Kamphuyzen.
It is not once an age two hearts are set