124
TO LAURA DURDEN.
And silver is streaking the hair, Laura, That I brush from your temple away.I know 't is not time that has thrown, Laura, The moonlight of age on your hair;Your heart, all too early, has known, Laura, The wearisome burden of care.
The fortune that sadly has changed, Laura, The losses your life has sustained—The five hundred friends now estranged, Laura, Where few, oh! so few, have remained.But this is the way of the world, Laura, We know not what friendship is worth,Till Fortune her banner has furled, Laura, And Sorrow sits down at our hearth,
Yet still in your eyes I can see, Laura, The light I can never forget;And I know in your heart that for me, Laura, The old tender love lingers yet.And mine beats as warmly for you, Laura, As though we were both young again;I was one of the many you knew, Laura,— I am one of the few who remain.
