Us Two by A.A. Milne

Whereever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.,
Whatever I want to do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well,that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together,"says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.


"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh.
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh
.

"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few-
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew
. That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.


"Let's frighten the dragons," I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!"- and off they flew.


"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."


So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two,
Can stick together, says Pooh, says he. "That's how it is," says Pooh.

Alone by Maya Angelou

Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don't believe I'm wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone
.

Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.


There are some millionaires
With money they can't use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They've got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Now if you listen closely
I'll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
'Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.


Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.

Hug O' War by Shel Silverstein

I will not play tug o' war.
I'd rather play hug o'war.
Where everyone hugs,
Instead of tugs.
Where everyone giggles
And rolls on the rug,
Where everyone kisses,
And everyone grins,
And everyone cuddless,
And everyone wins

The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I shot an arrow into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For, so swiftly it flew,the sight
Could not follow it in its flight.


I breathed a song into the air,
It fell to earth, I knew not where;
For who has sight so keen and strong,
That it can follow the flight of a song?


Long, long afterward,in an oak,
I found the arrow,still unbroke;
And the song,from beginning to end,
I found again in the heart of a friend

Friendship after Love by Ella Wheeler Wilcox

After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In the intensity of its own fires,
There come the mellow, mild, St. Martin days
Crowned with the calm of peace, but sad with haze.
So after Love has led us, till he tires
Of his own throes, and torments, and desires,
Comes large-eyed Friendship: with a restful gaze.
He beckons us to follow, and across
Cool verdant vales we wander free from care.
Is it a touch of frost lies in the air?
Why are we haunted with a sense of loss?
We do not wish the pain back, or the heat;
And yet, and yet, these days are incomplete.

A Poison Tree by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:
I told my wrath, my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe:
I told it not, my wrath did grow.


And I waterd it in fears
Night & morning with my tears;
And I sunned it with smiles,
And with soft deceitful wiles.


And it grew both day and night,
Till it bore an apple bright.
And my foe beheld it shine,
And he knew that it was mine,


And into my garden stole,
When the night had veiled the pole;
In the morning glad I see
My foe outstretchd beneath the tree.

Old Friends by Edgar Guest

I do not say new friends are not considerate and true,
Or that their smiles ain't genuine, but still I'm tellin' you
That when a feller's heart is crushed and achin' with the pain,
And teardrops come a-splashin' down his cheeks like summer rain,
Becoz his grief an' loneliness are more than he can bear,
Somehow it's only old friends, then, that really seem to care.
The friends who've stuck through thick an' thin, who've known you, good an' bad,
Your faults an' virtues, an' have seen the struggles you have had,
When they come to you gentle-like an' take your hand an' say:
'Cheer up! we're with you still,' it counts, for that's the old friends' way.


The new friends may be fond of you for what you are today;
They've only known you rich, perhaps, an' only seen you gay;
You can't tell what's attracted them; your station may appeal;
Perhaps they smile on you because you're doin' something real;
But old friends who have seen you fail, an' also seen you win,
Who've loved you either up or down, stuck to you, thick or thin,
Who knew you as a budding youth, an' watched you start to climb,
Through weal an' woe, still friends of yours an' constant all the time,
When trouble comes an' things go wrong, I don't care what you say,
They are the friends you'll turn to, for you want the old friends' way.


The new friends may be richer, an' more stylish, too, but when
Your heart is achin' an' you think your sun won't shine again,
It's not the riches of new friends you want, it's not their style,
It's not the airs of grandeur then, it's just the old friend's smile,
The old hand that has helped before, stretched out once more to you,
The old words ringin' in your ears, so sweet an', Oh, so true!
The tenderness of folks who know just what your sorrow means,
These are the things on which, somehow, your spirit always leans.
When grief is poundin' at your breast the new friends disappear
An' to the old ones tried an' true, you turn for aid an' cheer.

A Time to Talk by Robert Frost

When a friend calls to me from the road
And slows his horse to a meaning walk,
I don't stand still and look around
On all the hills I haven't hoed,
And shout from where I am, 'What is it?'
No, not as there is a time to talk.
I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground,
Blade-end up and five feet tall,
And plod: I go up to the stone wall
For a friendly visit.

I Knew a Man by Sight by Henry David Thoreau

I knew a man by sight,
A blameless wight,
Who, for a year or more,
Had daily passed my door,
Yet converse none had had with him.


I met him in a lane,
Him and his cane,
About three miles from home,
Where I had chanced to roam,
And volumes stared at him, and he at me.


In a more distant place
I glimpsed his face,
And bowed instinctively;
Starting he bowed to me,
Bowed simultaneously, and passed along.


Next, in a foreign land
I grasped his hand,
And had a social chat,
About this thing and that,
As I had known him well a thousand years.


Late in a wilderness
I shared his mess,
For he had hardships seen
, And I a wanderer been;
He was my bosom friend, and I was his.


And as, methinks, shall all,
Both great and small,
That ever lived on earth,
Early or late their birth,
Stranger and foe, one day each other know.

The Power of the Dog by Rudyard Kipling

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.


Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie
Perfect passion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart for a dog to tear.


When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet's unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find it's your own affair
But you've given your heart to a dog to tear.


When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!).
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone wherever it goes for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.


We've sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we've kept 'em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-time loan is as bad as a long
So why in Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

On the Friendship betwixt Two Ladies by Edmund Waller

Tell me, lovely, loving pair!
Why so kind, and so severe?
Why so careless of our care,
Only to yourselves so dear?


By this cunning change of hearts,
You the power of love control;
While the boy's eluded darts
Can arrive at neither soul.


For in vain to either breast
Still beguiled love does come,
Where he finds a foreign guest,
Neither of your hearts at home.


Debtors thus with like design,
When they never mean to pay,
That they may the law decline,
To some friend make all away.


Not the silver doves that fly,
Yoked in Cytherea's car;
Not the wings that lift so high,
And convey her son so far;


Are so lovely, sweet, and fair,
Or do more ennoble love;
Are so choicely matched a pair,
Or with more consent do move.

To My Excellent Lucasia, on Our Friendship by Katherine Philips

I did not live until this time
Crowned my felicity,
When I could say without a crime,
I am not thine, but thee.


This carcass breathed, and walked, and slept,
So that the world believed
There was a soul the motions kept;
But they were all deceived.


For as a watch by art is wound
To motion, such was mine:
But never had Orinda found
A soul till she found thine;


Which now inspires, cures and supplies,
And guides my darkened breast:
For thou art all that I can prize,
My joy, my life, my rest.


No bridegroom's nor crown-conqueror’s mirth
To mine compared can be:
They have but pieces of the earth,
I've all the world in thee.


Then let our flames still light and shine,
And no false fear control,
As innocent as our design,
Immortal as our soul.

Friendship by Henry David Thoreau

I think awhile of Love, and while I think,
Love is to me a world,
Sole meat and sweetest drink,
And close connecting link
'Tween heaven and earth.


I only know it is, not how or why,
My greatest happiness;
However hard I try,
Not if I were to die,
Can I explain.


I fain would ask my friend how it can be,
But when the time arrives,
Then Love is more lovely
Than anything to me,
And so I'm dumb.


For if the truth were known, Love cannot speak,
But only thinks and does;
Though surely out 'twill leak
Without the help of Greek,
Or any tongue.


A man may love the truth and practise it,
Beauty he may admire,
And goodness not omit,
As much as may befit
To reverence.


But only when these three together meet,
As they always incline,
And make one soul the seat,
And favourite retreat,
Of loveliness;


When under kindred shape, like loves and hates
And a kindred nature,
Proclaim us to be mates,
Exposed to equal fates
Eternally;


And each may other help, and service do,
Drawing love's bands more tight,
Service he ne'er shall rue
While one and one make two,
And two are one;


In such case only doth man fully prove
Fully as man can do,
What power there is in Love
His inmost soul to move
Resistlessly.


Two sturdy oaks I mean, which side by side,
Withstand the winter's storm,
And spite of wind and tide,
Grow up the meadow's pride,
For both are strong.


Above they barely touch, but undermined
Down to their deepest source,
Admiring you shall find
Their roots are intertwined
Insep'rably.

Love & Friendship by 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 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 still may leave thy garland green.

I should not dare to leave my Friend by Emily Dickinson

I should not dare to leave my friend,
Because - because if he should die
While I was gone - and I - too late-
Should reach the Heart that wanted me-


If I should disappoint the eyes
That hunted - hunted so - to see-
And could not bear to shut until
They noticed me - they noticed me-


If I should stab the patient faith
So sure I'd come - so sure I'd come-
It listening - listening - went to sleep-
Telling my tardy name-


My Heart would wish it broke before-
Since breaking then-since breaking then-
We're useless as next morning's sun-
Where midnight frosts - had lain!

You smile upon your friend to-day by A.E. Housman

You smile upon your friend to-day,
To-day his ills are over;
You hearken to the lover's say,
And happy is the lover
.

'Tis late to hearken, late to smile,
But better late than never:
I shall have lived a little while
Before I die for ever.

The Pleasures of Friendship by Stevie Smith

The pleasures of friendship are exquisite,
How pleasant to go to a friend on a visit!
I go to my friend, we walk on the grass,
And the hours and moments like minutes pass.

Your Catfish Friend by Richard Brautigan

If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them.">

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