To My Best Friend... Poem by Rey Sanidad

As Time was weaving the garland of years,
To crown my dear Friend was given,
Though some of the leaves might be sullen with tears,
Yet the flowers were all gathered in heaven.

And long may this garland be sweet to the eye,
May its freshness forever be new,
Young Friend shall enrich it with many a sigh,
And Sympathy nurse it with dew.

If you feel like crying...
If your tears are given to care,
If real woe disturbs your peace,
Come to my bossom, weeping friend!
And I will bid your weeping cease.

But if with Fancy's visioned fears,
With dreams of woe your bosom quiver;
You look so lovely in your tears,
That I must bid you dropp them still.