Sweet Lilly, come again.
We look across the landscape wide,
Where spring bemocks the thought of pain,
And scatters charms with lavish pride;—
The vernal joy is all in vain:
Sweet Lilly, come again,
Sweet Lilly, come again.
The summer breezes lightly lift
The clustered flowers oppressed with rain,
Which fleecy cloud-sieves downward sift,—