Oh! never, never, until now,
Seem'd happiness so near me--
Hope never wore a brighter brow
To flatter or to cheer me:
Yet while I listen to her voice,
Sad memory is chiding--
And I must tremble to rejoice,
And weep while I'm confiding.
I thought my spirit had grown old,
While counting years by sorrow,
And that the future could unfold
For me no happier morrow;
But ah! I find myself a child
Of newly waken'd feeling,
As full of dreams, as bright and wild,
As fancy's first revealing.