WHAT IS HAPPINESS?
A shadow that flits from the gaze,
Like evening's departing rays.
O'er mountains of sorrow
It fades from our sight,
And the heart then must borrow
A fainter light.
Like evening's departing rays.
O'er mountains of sorrow
It fades from our sight,
And the heart then must borrow
A fainter light.
'Tis a dream of the weary soul,
Where bright visions, without control,
One moment will hover;
Then, hast'ning away,
Leave the bosom for ever
To sick'ning decay.
Where bright visions, without control,
One moment will hover;
Then, hast'ning away,
Leave the bosom for ever
To sick'ning decay.
'Tis a wave of the silvery tide,
From our grasp it for ever doth glide;
And it leaves not a trace
Of the light that is gone,
O'er the resting-place
Where its brightness shone.
From our grasp it for ever doth glide;
And it leaves not a trace
Of the light that is gone,
O'er the resting-place
Where its brightness shone.
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