Classic Poem

Ere yet with manhood's vain desire
My vows for Fortune's gifts I breath'd,
Fancy bestow'd a plaything-lyre,
With roses and with cypress wreath'd!

Dearly I prized the tuneful toy,
Nor could my fond ear ascertain,
If most I lov'd its notes of joy,
Or sweeter thought its plaintive strain!

Whene'er my novice hand presum'd
To wake the chords of grief or glee,
The cypress gloom'd, the roses bloom'd,
And all was tears or smiles for me!

Neglected long, I lately tried
This charmer of my infant days;
Alas! each gay sound it denied;
And murmur'd only mournful lays!

Too soon I found the cause, my eyes
Upon its lessen'd garland casting —
E'en Fancy's rose deciduous dies;
Why is her Cypress everlasting!