I'd like to be the sort of friend
that you have been to me;
I'd like to be the help that
you've been always glad to be;
I'd like to mean as much to
you each minute of the day
As you have meant, old friend
of mine, to me along the way.
I'd like to do the big things and
the splendid things for you,
To brush the gray from out
your skies and leave them only blue;
I'd like to say the kindly things
that I so oft have heard,
And feel that I could rouse
your soul the way that mine you've stirred.
I'd like to give you back the
joy that you have given me,
Yet that were wishing you a
need I hope will never be;
I'd like to make you feel as rich as
I, who travel on
Undaunted in the darkest
hours with you to lean upon.
I'm wishing at this time that I
could but repay
A portion of the gladness that
you've strewn along my way;
And could I have one wish,
this only would it be:
I'd like to be the sort of friend
that you have been to me.
Author unknown