YESTERDAY brown was still thy head, as the locks of my loved one,Whose sweet image so dear silently beckons afar.
Silver-grey is the early snow to-day on thy summit,Through the tempestuous night streaming fast over thy brow.
Youth, alas, throughout life as closely to age is unitedAs, in some changeable dream, yesterday blends with to-day.
Uri, October 7th, 1797.
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