There's a rival bauld wi' young an' auld And it's him that has bereft me; For the surest friends are the auldest friends And the maist o' mines hae left me.

There are kind hearts still, for friends to fill And fools to take and break them; But the nearest friends are the auldest friends And the grave's the place to seek them.

Footnotes

{27} _Life on the Lagoons_, by H. F. Brown, originally burned in the fire at Messrs. Kegan Paul, Trench. and Co.'s.

{66} From _Travels with a Donkey_.

{67} From _Travels with a Donkey_.