Smooth and untroubled, through the flow’ry vale:
O’er thy green banks once more, the wild rose blowing,
Greets the young spring, and scents the passing gale.
Here ’twas at eve, near yonder tree reposing,
One still too dear, first breath’d his vows to thee:
Wear this, he cried, his guileful love disclosing,
Near to thy heart, in memory of me.
Love’s cherished gift, the rose he gave, is faded;
Love’s blighted flower, can never bloom again.
Weep for thy fault—in heart—in mind degraded: