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How many live but to abuse that power!
How many scorn the joys which thou dost give!
Ah! could they feel them for one fleeting hour,
They'd wish no higher pleasure to receive.
How many scorn the joys which thou dost give!
Ah! could they feel them for one fleeting hour,
They'd wish no higher pleasure to receive.
They never tasted pleasure's true enjoyment,
Who tread the paths by dissipation strew'd;
They never saw joy's brightest ornament—
The silent tear of heart-felt gratitude.
Who tread the paths by dissipation strew'd;
They never saw joy's brightest ornament—
The silent tear of heart-felt gratitude.
