In life's young morn, with fairy wiles,
Hope cheats the soul, and Fancy smiles;
They lull with flattering dreams of joy,
Ah! why must truth the dreams destroy?
Those halcyon days too soon are past,
The lovely visions will not last;
The golden dream of frolic joy,
Alas! ere long will truth destroy.
The glowing scene by fancy spread,
Gay hope by youthful ardour led,
The flattering dream of frolic joy,
Ah! soon, too soon will truth destroy.