Can you, the author of our joy

Can you, the author of our joy,
So soon depart?
Will you revive, and straight destroy?
New mirth to tears convert?
O that ever cause of gladness
Should so swiftly turn to sadness!

Now as we droop, so will these flowers,
Barred of your sight:
Nothing avail them heav'nly showers
Without your heav'nly light.
When the glorious sun forsakes us,
Winter quickly overtakes us.

Yet shall our prayers your ways attend,
When you are gone;
And we the tedious time will spend,
Rememb'ring you alone.
Welcome here shall you hear ever,
But the word of parting never.