The world all bright before us—vivid scene
Of cloudless sunshine and of fadeless green;
A treacherous picture of our coming years,
Bright in prospective—welcomed but with tears.
How false the view, a backward glance will tell!
A tale of visions wrecked, of broken spell,
Of valued hearts estranged or careless grown,
Affection’s links dissevered or unknown;
Of joys, deemed fadeless, gone to swift decay,
And love’s broad circle dwindled half away;