Classic Poem

If all the sorrows of this weary earth
—The pains and heartaches of humanity—
—If all were gathered up and given me,
I still would have my share of wealth and worth
—Who have you, Friend of Old, to be my cheer
—Through life's uncertain fortunes, year by year.

Thank God for friends, who dearer grow as years increase;
—Who, as possessions fail our hopes and hands,
—Become the boon supreme, than gold and lands
More precious. Let all else, if must be, cease;
—But, Lord of Life, I pray on me bestow
—The gift of friends, to share the way I go.

If all the sorrows of this weary earth
—The pains and heartaches of humanity—
—If all were gathered up and given me,
I still would have my share of wealth and worth
—Who have you, Friend of Old, to be my cheer
—Through life's uncertain fortunes, year by year.

Thank God for friends, who dearer grow as years increase;
—Who, as possessions fail our hopes and hands,
—Become the boon supreme, than gold and lands
More precious. Let all else, if must be, cease;
—But, Lord of Life, I pray on me bestow
—The gift of friends, to share the way I go.