They wore in courtship’s smiling day,
And voices lose the tone that shed
A tenderness o’er all they said;—
Till fast declining, one by one
The sweetnesses of love are gone,
And hearts, so lately mingled, seem
Like broken clouds, or like the stream
That smiling leaves the mountain’s brow,
As though its waters ne’er could sever,
Yet, ere it reach the plain below,