Thrilled through my peaceful breast,
Those dreams like summer buds have faded,
That tone hath died away,
Death’s cloud my beaming skies hath shaded,
And quenched the light of day.
I lay me down, faint, lone, and weary,
No hand upon my brow;
Through the dark valley, cold and dreary,
No voice to cheer me now.
My life has been a dream; in vain