Classic Poem

Too quickly art thou vanished dream of youth!
Fair, sunbright dream! by which a while deceiv'd,
My soul was gay amidst life's dismal truth,
(Sorrow and disappointment) now conceiv'd
Its happiness delusion; but believ'd
That fair ideal world could remain,
Tho' death was all around — Tho' now bereav'd
Of its gay hopes it seeks tho past in pain!
The dream of youth once dreamt doth ne'er return again.

Life! life! upon my heart thy sadness lies
Like the icy hand of death; my eye in vain
Though all condition of existence flies,
And finds not one that is exempt from pain
But man, deluded man still hugs the chain
That binds him down to love; still eager tries,
Though various disappointment to attain.
The fair deceitful phantom happiness
That ever flees his grasp, till in pursuit — he dies.

Oh! what is all that mortals most esteem?
Power, riches, honours are but gilded woe;
And pleasure is a short-liv'd fev'rish dream,
That leaves regret when it hath ceas'd to glow;
The flower of love is rarely seen to blow;
Beauty is but the splendid garb of death;
And FAME of all possessions, here below,
The best, the brightest, is an empty breath;
Alas! where is the one true charm existence hath?

Oh fancy hide from me life's dismal waste!
Let thy bright [orisons] o'er my spirit steal!
The wretch upon the rack hath leave to taste
A Moment of repose; tho' but to feel
His agonies the more; then come reveal
The scenes, the happiness fate hath not giv'n
To sons of earth (it may be) for their weal;
For if the soul had ne'er with anguish striv'n.
Ah! could it hope in death, or waft one wish to heav'n.