Thy fairest flowers, oh Nature! thou must strew!
To light these young hearts on their path of care,
And with fresh fragrance wavering hopes renew!
* * * * *
Drearily, heavily, through the thick air
Struggles the sunbeam to pierce with his glare!
Droopingly, listlessly, hang the wet leaves;
Slowly the mist trickles down o’er the eaves
Seeming, in monotone mournful, to say—
“Dust to dust!” “Time flitteth!” “What is to-day!”