Art of Friendship

Do nothing for your indigent old friends:
Respect the bonds of holy irony
And never lift us out of poverty
With your cascade of gold that never ends.
Enjoy the satisfaction good sense lends
To those who practise freedom, making free
With logic and good will: the hanging tree —
Too good for us — like you, it never bends.

Don't worry, staying up through half the night
Till someone wakens you and, with a start,
You realize you never knew the art
Of friendship. You won't ever feel that bite.
Do nothing for your friends. They'll be all right
Without assistance from your shrunken heart.