Richmond, February 28.
For the Southern Literary Messenger.
TRUST NOT.
BY A. L. B. M.D.
|
"Ay they that find Affection's perfect trust on aught of earth, Have many a dream to start from." |
| Trust not to aught of earthly mould; O! trust not woman's love— The warmest heart will soon grow cold, The purest faithless prove. Put not thy trust in glowing smiles, Or lips of rosy hue; O! fly thee far from woman's wiles, Her heart cannot be true. O! never trust the sunny beam In maidens sparkling eye, How bright soever it may seem, It glistens but to die. The lips that once could speak of love, Can breathe another strain; And, O! the warmest breast may prove The seat of proud disdain. Then leave the hall of love and song, Cast off the gaudy chain, Nor worship with the craven throng, Where truth must sue in vain. |