Friendship

When we were idlers with the loitering rills,

The need of human love we little noted:

...Our love was nature; and the peace that floated

On the white mist, and dwelt upon the hills,

To sweet accord subdued our wayward will:

...One soul was ours, one mind, one heart devoted,

...That, wisely doting, ask'd not why it doted,

And ours the unknown joy, which knowing kills.

But now I find how dear thou wert to me;

...That man is more than half of nature's treasure,

Of that fair beauty which no eye can see,

...Of that sweet music which no ear can measure;

...And now the streams may sing for others' pleasure,

The hills sleep on in their eternity.

-- Hartley Coleridge