Go forth in life, O friend, not seeking love;
A mendicant that with imploring eye
And outstretched hand asks of the passers-by
The alms his strong necessities may move.
...
|
Sing me that song again, |
Our patriot sires are gone, |
When Summer o'er her native hills |
Why bends she o'er that glittering toy |
|
On the swift flying hours |
To what bright world afar didst thou belong, |
Darkness sat brooding o'er the infant world, |
Oh! in that better land to which I go, |