When o’er the sparkling dews of youth, the hues of morning burst;
Those morning hues dispel the mists that made its flowers so gay,
And boyhood’s joys are only bright, as they are borne away.
4.
And all the hopes those dews inspired, like dews dissolve in air,
And melt in fickle forms away, and leave unveiled the glare:
And childhood mourns like hoary Eld a thousand pleasures gone,
And weeps o’er disappointed hours, while yet ’tis early dawn!
5.
Oh can it be that we have lived, before we wept on earth,