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Sutton & Wawne Museum
Family History Resource Centre

East Yorkshire


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Here are a few lines that seem to me to be about Friendship.

The Scent of the Roses

Farewell but whenever you welcome the hour
That awakens the night song of mirth in your bower,
Then think of the friend who once welcomed it too
And forgot his own griefs to be happy with you.
His griefs may return, not a hope may remain
Of the few that have brightened his pathway of pain.
But he ne'er will forget the short vision which threw
Its enchantment around him, while lingering with you.

And still on that evening when pleasure fills up
To the highest top spark to each heart and each cup.
Where e'er my path lies, be it gloomy or bright
My soul, happy friends shall be with you that night;
Shall join in your revels, your sports and your wiles
And return to me beaming all o'er with your smiles.
Too blest if it tells me that mid the gay wheer
Some kind voice had murmured: "I wish he were here."

Let fate do her worst, there are relics of joy,
Bright dreams of the past which she cannot destroy;
That come back in the night-time of sorrow and care,
And bring back the features that joy used to wear.
Long, long be my heart with such memories filled,
As the vase in which roses have once been distilled.
You may break, you may shatter the vase if you will,
But the scent of the roses will hang around still.

                                                                         Thomas Moore ~ 1759 - 1852

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