To my friend, on his birthday
Oh, Time! deal gently with my friend,
Who gently deals with all;
And on his loved and honored head
Let blessings only fall
In love to God, and love to man,
His days pass here below;
And so, to reach the home above,
He has not far to go.
But distant be that hapless day
That calls him from our view:
Heaven has so many souls like his,
And Earth, alas! so few
poem by Anne Lynch Botta from Poems
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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