
Love and Friendship
(Emily Bronte)
Love is like the wild rose-briar,
Friendship like the holly-tree
The holly is dark when the rose-briar blooms
But which will bloom most constantly?
The wild-rose briar is sweet in the spring,
Its summer blossoms scent the air;
Yet wait till winter comes again
And who will call the wild-briar fair?
Then scorn the silly rose-wreath now
And deck thee with the holly's sheen,
That when December blights thy brow
He may still leave thy garland green.
I dedicates this poem to my best friend who is in grief. I am so sorry because I cannot be there for you when you really need someone to be a shoulder to cry on. If I had not been here, I would have stood by you. I am sorry, Kak. May He gives him the most beuatiful place there....He was a good man so that he would get something best.
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