In this imperfect gloomy scene
Of complicated ill
How rarely is a day serene,
The throbbing bosom still!
May not a beauteous landscape bright
Or music's soothing sound,
Console the heart, afford delight,
And throw sweet peace around?
They may; but never comfort lend
Like an accomplished female friend!

With such a friend, the social hour
In sweetest pleasure glides;
There is in female charms a power
Which lastingly abides;
The fragrance of the blushing rose,
Its tints and splendid hue,
Will with the season decompose,
And pass as flitting dew.
On firmer ties his joys depend
Who has a faithful female friend!

As orbs revolve, and years recede
And seasons onward roll,
The fancy may on beauties feed
With discontented soul;
A thousand objects bright and fair
May for a moment shine,
Yet many a sigh and many a tear
But mark their swift decline;
But lasting joys the man attend
Who has a polish'd female friend!

Rev. Cornelius Whur: 1782-1853

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  As many of my long-single friends in their fifties tentatively re-invent themselves as couples and finally to their surprise decide to marry, the timely wisdom of the above has seldom been more appropriate or more delicately aimed. I searched for it in vain on the internet, and having located it, at last, in a tattered anthology belonging to a friend of mine, I make it available for the edification of future generations. DCW