I.

Lovely as the summer flower,
Peace o'er the mind exerts its pow'r,
But as the flow'ret's beauty dies,
Peace from the mind too quickly flies;
The flow'r no more is sweet and gay,
And peace has fled away — away:
Other flowers will bud and blow, —
Will peace revive? ah no! ah no!

II.

Limpid, crystal, as the rill,
Pure honour flows, unstain'd with ill,
But like the rill's bright waters too,
The slightest spot will tinge its hue;
The stream rolls on a darken'd tide,
Honour has lost its fame and pride,
Streams again untainted flow, —
Is honour cleans'd? ah no! ah no!

III.

Life's a bright exulting day,
Which pleasure gilds with many a ray,
But death is like the deep, deep sleep,
With night that o'er our souls will creep;
Helpless on slumber's couch we lie,
Helpless we yield the ghost and die,
Night soon passes, slumbers go, —
Can death awake, ah no! ah no!