Lest thy heart with anguish bleed.
Trust not—hopes we fondly cherish,
Crushed and wounded leave the heart.
Love not—love’s bright flowers perish,
Bloom to wither, then depart.
Love’s sweet strains, like music flowing,
Drink not deep their melting tone.
Eyes that now so gently glowing,
Beam so fondly in thine own—
Ah! their light—it may deceive thee;