Friendship

My friend, I cannot trespass on your heart, Nor try the strings that fit its melodies So beautiful, they are a world apart — Belonging to yourself — your minstrelsy.

I must not try to bring myself to see That songs that make your daily life so full, Might haply give the same sweet joys to me, Of fill the voids in my sequestered soul.

If I should mar your usefulness By one discordant sound, The falsity of selfishness Would wound — forever wound.