There are hearts, like the ivy
   Though all be decayed
That it seemed to clasp fondly
   In sunlight and shade;
No leaves droop in sadness
   Still gaily they spread,
Undimmed mid'st the blighted
   The lowly, and dead;
But the mistletoe clings
   To the oak lest[?] in part,
But with leaves closely round it
   The root in its heart;
Exists but to twine it
   Inside the same dew
Or to fall with its loved oak.
   And perish there too.

Then let's love one another
   Mid'st sorrows the worst,
Unaltered and fond,
   As we loved at the first;
Though all the false loving of pleasure
   May change and forsake,
And the triplet[?] urn of wealth
   Into particles break,
There are some sweet affections
   That wealth cannot buy,
That cling but still close
   When sorrow draws nigh
And remain with us yet
   Though all else pass away
Then let's love one another
   As long as we stay.