O, happy world!—Beauty and Blessing slept
On everything but him—he felt, and wept.
Humming a lightsome tune of yore;
Beside the open log-house door,
Tears upon his sickly cheek
Saw his mother, and so did speak;—
“What makes his mother’s Henry weep?
You and I the cottage keep;
They hunt the nuts and clusters blue,
Weary lads, for me and you;