The Heart

it's sting from out our hearts.

Long and joyful might be our days

but sorrow and woe will play their part.
.

There may be one, who with proclaimed love,

shall make the years and hours fly,

but there shall come a time, swift as fate,

when love retreating, leaves their eye.
.

Friends will show to make you gay

and fondly help defeat the sense of ill,

but the wine and mirth but mask the lie,

for the heart, the heart is lonely still.