Why do ye bloom so fair?”
“To lighten, my love, the dreary hours,
And sweeten the cup of care.”
“But why do ye fade, oh, gentle flowers?”
“By cold winds cruelly slain,
That we may spring up in brighter hours,
And blossom and smile again.
“So thou, in thy youth, my little child,
Will spring up in golden bloom,
But soon will the storm or the tempest wild,