Ah! withering sorrow wilt thou come,
And steal the roses of to-day,
Nor leave one lonely sweet to bloom,
And cheer us in this mournful May.
Oh! yes, one blossom yet shall smile,
And filial childhood shall expand,
Maternal anguish to beguile,
And crown the wish affection plann'd.
Then ah! tho' withering sorrow come,
And steal the early birth-day rose;
Let hope reserve one sweet to bloom,
"Tho' thorns its dewy leaves enclose."