Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

Friends

Are friends delight or pain?
  Could bounty but remain
Riches were good.

But if they only stay
Bolder to fly away,
  Riches are sad.

1. Contrast
2. The Nearest Dream Recedes, Unrealized
3. This Merit Hath the Worst
4. In Lands I Never Saw, They Say
5. Who Robbed the Woods

William Yeats Friends ("Now must I these three praise")

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