Was there not a gentle warning
Murmur’d in thy gurgling tone?
Clouds were gath’ring o’er life’s morning,
Which in radiant beauty shone;
Ah! I felt the whisper’d warning,
I should tread thy banks alone.
Yes—alone! my gentle sister
Here no more shall rove with me;
How I trembled when I kiss’d her,
Standing near our fav’rite tree!