Song Exciting to Gladness

O! WHO to fretful thoughts and wasting cares would hearken

So long as Youth's bright blossoms bloom?
Who in the fairy halls of Youth and Hope would darken

A sunny brow by folds of gloom?
Joy stands, and smiles, and beckons with alluring finger,

On all the pathways Life discloses;
And ever where a crossroad bids the Pilgrim linger,

She crowns him with her wreath of roses.

The stream, the meadowstream, still bubbles fresh and sprightly,

Still blushes all the dell with flowers
The moon, the vestal moon, is beaming now as brightly

As when she silvered Adam's bowers.
The wine, the chaliced wine, still sheds its purple splendour

On souls that droop in Grief's eclipse;
And in the rosy glen is still as fond and tender

The kiss from pure Affection's lips.

And still, as twilight dies, the heart of Youth rejoices,

Forgetting Pain and even Despair,
When trilling through the grove the neverweary voices

Of nightingales enchant the air.

O Earth! how fair thou art while Youth is yet in blossom!
How bright, how lovely is thy brow!

1 wish this bounding heart may wither in my bosom,
When I shall love thee less than now!