Oh! who can deny that the face of a friend,
We loved in the years that are gone
When met with again does not solace the pain
Of the heart that has suffer'd alone
To lean on a bosom we know to be true,
In what grief can it not make amends
Ah! the pleasure's so dear that the joy of a year,
Is the moment of meeting old friends.

Oh! the face of a friend be it wrinkled and marr'd,
In the beauty we gaz'd on of yore
It still bears the charm of remembrance to warm,
And we love it, aye! love it the more
For the heart that is weary of sorrow revives,
And the brow that is thoughtful unbends,
For life has no bliss more precious than this,
A meeting with faithful old friends.