I haven't many, so sad but true,
A fact that I have grown to rue;
That which I've missed in love doth stay,
Despite my errors, day by day.
My greatest Friend doth sit above,
In height exceeds all other love;
A model, He, both strong and true,
A Friend to all, so clear to view.
Some called friends do share their heart,
But only if you share their part
In whatsoever battle rages
Such, false friends throughout the ages.
'Tis said, "The Friend doth love thee true,
Despite what thou dost say or do";
Not many people fit this mold
Less common than the crock o' gold.
I've not found many o'er many a year
'Tis less than two or three, I fear;
Yet, Lord, I tell Thee truly now,
Of these dear friends, one such is Thou.