As flowers will gather sweetness that may never more depart.
And oft she gazed with rapture on that bright angelic face,
So radiant and beautiful with eloquence and grace;
His voice, like tones of music sweet, bound with a magic spell,
As gems of wisdom from his lips in heavenly accents fell.
In fashion’s brilliant halls, where gay alluring pleasures throng,
No flattering smiles could win her from her childhood’s happy song;
When many a garland twined her brow and passion’s voice soft fell,
She was true to him who knew not how she had loved so well.
Ah! cruel fate that bids the shades of change with fleeting years,