Poems (Curwen)/Mary Duckworth

by Annie Isabel Curwen

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.