When first to youth's enchanted eyes
The flattering world discloses;
Oh! then unclouded are the skies,
The lovely scenes of hope arise,
The path is deck'd with roses.
Like summer clouds or April showers,
Our sorrows pass away;
In smiling Fancy's fairy bowers,
We sport the gay delightful hours,
Of life's propitious May.
But ah! how short our festal morn,
How soon our spring is fled;
Those golden days no more return;
The fairest flowers conceal a thorn;
The path of life we tread.
Some wander thro' a rugged way,
Forsaken and opprest;
While others cheer'd by Fortune's ray,
Thro' Pleasure's laughing region stray,
In rainbow colours drest.
The early votaries of the muse,
Too fondly hope to rove,
Thro' blissful meads, where flowers diffuse
Their balmy sweets and glowing hues,
Around the bower of love.
How fair to youth's enchanted eyes,
The flattering world discloses;
But soon the dear illusion flies,
And weeds and pointed thorns arise,
To blend with fragrant roses.
Oh! may the path of life for thee,
Still wear a vernal smile;
May Hope thy sweet companion be,
And Friendship, Love, and Sympathy,
Thy happy hours beguile.
Be thine with airy steps to trace,
Some bright and sunny way;
Oh! still may Health with sportive grace,
And mantling bloom adorn thy face,
And bid thy heart be gay.