As frost to the bud, and blight to the blossom, even such is self-interest to Friendship:
For Confidence cannot dwell where Selfishness is porter at the gate.
If thou see thy friend to be selfish, thou canst not be sure of his honesty;
And in seeking thine own weal, thou hast wronged the reliance of thy friend.
Flattery hideth her varnished face when Friendship sitteth at his board:
And the door is shut upon Suspicion, but Candour is bid glad welcome.
For Friendship abhorreth doubt, its life is in mutual trust,
And perisheth, when artful praise proveth it is sought for a purpose.
A man may be good to thee at times, and render thee mighty service,
Whom yet thy secret soul could not desire as a friend;