Friend, Truth is best of all. It is the bed
Where Virtue e'er must spring, till blast of doom;
Where every bright and budding thought is bred,
Where Hope doth gain its strength, and Love its bloom.
As white as Chastity is single Truth,
Like Wisdom calm, like Honour without end;
And Love doth lean on it, in age and youth,
And Courage is twice arm'd with Truth its friend.
Oh! who would face the blame of just men's eyes,
And bear the fame of falsehood all his days,