Forsake not thou thy father’s friend,
Forsake not thou thine own,
Though care and grief his form may bow,
And frosts of age are on his brow,
And like a leafless willow now
He stands on earth alone.
Forsake not thou thy father’s friend,
Revere the hoary head.
Thou mayst have little to bestow
To lessen want or lighten woe,