But if in wandering thither
Thou find'st she mocks my prayer,
Then leave those wreaths to wither
Upon the cold bank there;
And tell her thus, when youth is o'er,
Her lone and loveless Charms shall be
Thrown by upon life's weedy shore.
Like those sweet flowers from thee.
ALL THAT'S BRIGHT MUST FADE.
(INDIAN AIR.)
All that's bright must fade,—
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest.
Stars that shine and fall;—
The flower that drops in springing;—
These, alas! are types of all
To which our hearts are clinging.
All that's bright must fade,—
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest?
Who would seek our prize
Delights that end in aching?
Who would trust to ties
That every hour are breaking?
Better far to be
In utter darkness lying,
Than to be blest with light and see
That light for ever flying.
All that's bright must fade,—
The brightest still the fleetest;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest!
SO WARMLY WE MET.
(HUNGARIAN AIR.)
So warmly we met and so fondly we parted,
That which was the sweeter even I could not tell,—
That first look of welcome her sunny eyes darted,
Or that tear of passion, which blest our farewell.
To meet was a heaven and to part thus another,—
Our joy and our sorrow seemed rivals in bliss;
Oh! Cupid's two eyes are not liker each other
In smiles and in tears than that moment to this.
The first was like day-break, new, sudden, delicious,—
The dawn of a pleasure scarce kindled up yet;
The last like the farewell of daylight, more precious,
More glowing and deep, as 'tis nearer its set.
Our meeting, tho' happy, was tinged by a sorrow
To think that such happiness could not remain;
While our parting, tho' sad, gave a hope that to-morrow
Would bring back the blest hour of meeting again.