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UPON THY TRUTH RELYING.
THEY say we are too young to love,—
In scorn they bid us both renounce
I know that Pleasure's hand will throw
I know how lonesome I shall find
I'll kiss each word that's traced by thee,-
When friends applaud thee, I'll sit by,
In silent rapture gazing;
And, oh! how proud of being loved
By her they have been praising!
But should Detraction breathe thy name,
The world's reproof defying :
I'd love thee,-laud thee,-trust thee still,Upon thy truth relying.
E'en those who smile to see us part,
Shall see us meet with wonder;
Such trials only make the heart
OH SAY NOT 'TWERE A KEENER BLOW.
Он say not 'twere a keener blow,
The girl who rears a sickly plant,
Or cherishes a wounded dove,
Will love them most while most they want
Time must have changed that fair young brow,
Ere pain and grief had sown decay,