I.

As down life's morning stream we glide,
Full oft some Flower stoops o'er its side,
And beckons to the smiling shore,
Where roses strew the landscape o'er:
Yet as we reach that Flower to clasp,
It seems to mock the cheated grasp,
And whisper soft, with siren glee,
'My bloom is not--oh not for thee!'
II.

Within Youth's flowery vale I tread,
By some entrancing shadow led--
And Echo to my call replies--
Yet, as she answers, lo, she flies!
And, as I seem to reach her cell--
The grotto, where she weaves her spell--
The Nymph's sweet voice afar I hear--
So Love departs, as we draw near!
III.

Upon a mountain's dizzy height,
Ambition's temple gleams with light:
Proud forms are moving fair within,
And bid us strive that light to win.
O'er giddy cliff and crag we strain,
And reach the mountain top--in vain!
For lo! the temple, still afar,
Shines cold and distant as a star.
IV.

I hear a voice, whose accents dear
Melt, like soft music, in mine ear.
A gentle hand, that seems divine,
Is warmly, fondly clasped in mine;
And lips upon my cheeks are pressed,
That whisper tones from regions blest:
But soon I start--for friendship's kiss
Is gone, and lo! a serpent's hiss.
V.

The sun goes down, and shadows rest
On the gay scenes by morning blest;
The gathering clouds invest the air--
Yet one bright constant Star is there.
Onward we press, with heavy load,
O'er tangled path and rough'ning road,
For still that Star shines bright before;
But now it sinks, and all is o'er!