Poems (Curwen)/Mary Duckworth
Many come—and so many go, Like the tide, some ebb and flow, And some are like the clinging vine, Their tendrils of affection twine Round us, and ever we reply Upon their truth and constancy; Years pass, and others change, but they Remain to-day as yesterday.
Distance, time, nor ought can shake True friendship, or its strong links break. Unto how few, can we reveal All that we think, all that we feel. Can'st thou to any friend lay bare Thy heart with all that's hidden there? Kind others may be, yet oft they prove Unworthy our regard or love. When our path is one of flowers, With pleasure they beguile the hours. Oh! how eager they are to please When our life is one of ease; Ready ever with jest and song; But, when dark hours come along, Tis with saddened hearts we own, Alas! our friends have flown. Heaven grant, should e'er arise the need, Thy friends may prove true friends indeed.