Sheds all its bitterness; delighting still
To tell the many miseries that flit
At times across me! Those I lightly prize
Partake the sunshine of my happier hours,
Although I seek them with far less delight!
The loud laugh dwells not here, the sportive dance,
The carol of unconscious levity,
And yet how oft, how willingly I come!"
"Know'st thou not, Lora," cried the youthful sage,
"That there are things the mind must prize above