Too Late

Yes! thou art fair, and I had loved
If we in earlier hours had met;
But ere tow'rd me thy beauty moved
The sun of Love's brief day had set.

Though I may watch thy opening bloom,
And its rich promise gladly see,
'Twill not procrastinate my doom:
The ripen'd fruit is not for me.

Yet, had I shared thy course of years,
And young as Hope beheld thy charms,
The love that only now endears
Perchance had given thee to my arms.

Vain, vain regret! Another day
Will kiss the buds of younger flowers,
But ne'er will evening turn away
From love untimelier than ours.