[SADNESS.]
'I cannot but remember such things were,
That were most pleasant to me.'
Shakspeare.
I.
I know not why!—but oft a deep gloom shading,
Steals o'er my gayest mood, my happiest hours;
The glory from my ardent soul is fading—
A tempest withers Hope's reviving flowers!
I know not why!
II.
I know not why!—but oft, when laughter thrilling,
Leaves its light echo joyously behind,
Tears from their secret founts mine eyes are filling;
I shudder, as the leaf shakes in the wind—
I know not why!
III.