Those sweet hours of pastime to me;
When nature, all round, like May's mild morn,
Made me bless'd as well I could be.
The joy I had in my youth, has fled,
And moments of innocent glee,
How little I thought of them till sped!
And they all had vanished from me.
O! could they once more to me return,
And I live them all o'er again,
How quick from myself I those should spurn,
That bring me no pleasure, but pain.
But now it seems I must sit and sigh,
For those Heavenly hours that are gone;
While the tears stand trembling in my eye,
When I think of those days to come.
Hopes of my youth as the sunbeams bright,
How quick have ye vanish'd away!
The prospects before are as dark as night,
And I tremble, as well I may.
My fears in youth, how quickly they fled!
My hopes were so buoyant and bright;
On the path before me, soon was shed,
Some gleam of encouraging light.
But no more can all these scenes return;
The thought is affecting to me;
Yet from them trust a lesson to learn,
That nothing substantial can be.
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