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HOW lovely was the light of heaven, What angels leaned from out the sky In years when youth was more than wine And man and nature seemed divine Ere yet I felt that youth must die. Ere yet I felt that youth must die How insubstantial looked the earth, Aladdin-land! in each advance, Or here or there, a new romance; I never dreamed would come a dearth. And nothing then but had its worth, Even pain. Yes, pleasure still and pain In quick reaction made of life A lovers’ quarrel, happy strife In youth that never comes again. But will youth never come again? Even to his grave-bed has he gone, And left me lone, to wake by night With heavy heart that erst was light? O, lay it at his head—a stone! |