Why is my spirit sad?
Because 'tis parting, each succeeding year,
With something that it used to hold more dear
Than aught that now remains;
Because the past, like a receding sail,
Flits into dimness, and the lonely gale
O'er vacant waters reigns!
Why is my spirit sad?
Because no more within my soul there dwell
Thoughts fresh as flowers that fill the mountain dell
With innocent delight;
Because I am aweary of the strife
That with hot fever taints the springs of life,
Making the day seem night!
Why is my spirit sad?
Alas! ye did not know the lost, the dead,
Who loved with me of yore green paths to tread--
The paths of young romance;
Ye never stood with us 'neath summer skies,
Nor saw the glad light of their tender eyes--
The Eden of their glance.
Why is my spirit sad?
Have not the beautiful been ta'en away--
Are not the noble-hearted turn'd to clay--
Wither'd in root and stem?
I see that others, in whose looks are lit
The radiant joys of youth, are round me yet,
But not--but not like them!
I would not be less sad;
My days of mirth are past; droops o'er my brow
The sheaf of care in sickly paleness now;
The present is around me;
Would that the future were both come and gone,
And that I lay where, 'neath a nameless stone,
Crush'd feelings could not wound me!