Where friends will have fled at thy defeat, even after promises and kindness;
For friends come and go, the whim that bound may loose them,
But none can dissever a relationship, and Fate hath tied the knot.
Wide, and edged with shadowy bounds, a distant boulevard to the city,
The common crowd of social life is buzzing round about:
That is as the outer court, with all defences levelled,
Ranged around a man's own fortress, and his father's house.
For many friends go in and out, and praise thee, finding pasture,
And some are honeycomb to-day, who turn to gall to-morrow:
And many a garrulous acquaintance with his frequent visit