2
THE BROKEN LENS.
Oh! the world is fair, my darling, Too fair to the eyes of youth;We look through a lens, at its units and tens, And count them as millions of truth.
Time shivers the glass, my darling, And shatters our castle towers;The millions and tens go down with the lens, And only the units are ours.
Only the units, my darling, We hold with a sense of pain,And we vainly sigh, as the years go by, To look through the lens again.
