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And though the sun of Summer hours
O'er lovelier tints may gleam,
No more shall Spring's first blighted flowers
Revive beneath its beam.
O'er lovelier tints may gleam,
No more shall Spring's first blighted flowers
Revive beneath its beam.
And sometimes thus, the heart, all bright
With youth's first opening bloom,
Feels some dark cloud turn joy to night,
And hope to cheerless gloom:
And though the sun of life's best hours
May burst that icy chain,
Yet never can youth's spring-time flowers
Bloom fresh and pure again.
With youth's first opening bloom,
Feels some dark cloud turn joy to night,
And hope to cheerless gloom:
And though the sun of life's best hours
May burst that icy chain,
Yet never can youth's spring-time flowers
Bloom fresh and pure again.
E.
Godinton, April 14, 1838,
