My Friend

I HAVE a friend, if you should ask
Why ’tis I love her well,
Indeed, ’twould be a weighty task
These reasons all to tell.

First, she is good enough to see—
A pretty face and kind,
That somehow fairer is to me
Than others I can find.

She has two lips with laughter filled,
That hold not scorn nor sneer,
She is a little bit self-willed—
Gangs her ain gait, I fear.

She has two strong and supple hands,
Two bright and tender eyes,
She has a heart that understands,
She has a judgment wise.

Her voice—at least to me—is fine,
I like to lie and rest,
And hear her reading, line by line,
The poems I love best.

No jealousy, no trace of spite
Is in her nature strong,
She is so loyal to the right,
So gentle with the wrong.