The tear forgot as soon as shed,
The sunshine of the breast;
Theirs buxom Health, of rosy hue,
Wild Wit, Invention ever-new,
And lively Cheer, of Vigour born;
The thoughtless day, the easy night,
The spirits pure, the slumbers light,
That fly th’ approach of morn.
Alas! regardless of their doom
The little victims play!