O that I could recall the day
When all my hours to thee were given,
And, as I gazed my soul away,
Thou wert my treasure, world, and heaven!
Then time on noiseless pinions flew,
And life like one bright morning beam'd:
Then love around us roses threw,
Which ever fresh and fragrant seem'd.
And are these moments gone for ever?
And can they ne'er return? NO NEVER.
For oh! that cruel traitor Time,
Although he might unheeded move,
Bore off our YOUTH'S luxuriant prime,
And _also_ stole the _bloom of_ LOVE.
Yet still the thought of raptures past
Shall gild life's dull remaining store,
As sinking suns a _splendour_ cast
On scenes their _presence lights_ no more.
But are those raptures gone for ever?
And will they ne'er return? NO NEVER.
The other song was only in unison with my feelings in the last lines of
the last verse. Still, while my morbid fancy made me consider them as
the expression of my own sentiments, I listened with such a tell-tale
countenance, that my delicacy was wounded; for I saw that my emotion was
visible to those who sat opposite to me.