1802

Thy Summer's day was long, but couldst thou think
Deluded fool, it would for ever last?
Thy sun indeed mid shrouding clouds, is fast
Declining, and must soon for ever sink
But from the long foreboded gloom to shrink
Thus in the hopeless depths of languor cast,
Declares thy brighter hours were idly past
In thoughtless folly Didst thou never think
That all thy fond heart prized must pass away?
And all those sparkling joys, even when most bright
Were but as heavy drops which trembling play
On the breeze-shaken leaf? Couldst thou delight
With calm security thro' all the day?
Nor seek a shelt'ring bower for sure approaching night?
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