The Rhode Island American, And General Advertiser

MISCELLANY

FOR THE RHODE-ISLAND AMERICAN

SONG.

Life's sweets are so seldom imparted,
When youth's tender morning is past,
Oh! who but must linger fond-hearted,
When these hours of the heart vanish fast?
And age like the icy-bound ocean,
In coldness imprisoned its glow.
And 'tis only the tempest's commotion,
Can rouse the dull waters below.
But man, in the pride of his spirit,
Of the prime of his days is most proud;
He fancies that fortune and merit
Will plant him aloft from the crowd:
That honour his footsteps adoring.
And splendour his path will attend,
And the visions of youth's tender morning.
Again their enchantment will blend.
Oh! days of my youth, gone forever!
Thy hours of the heart I must mourn,
And time flies so swift, he may sever
Life's thread, ere its fibres be worn:
Ere age, in its frost and its sadness,
Steal all life's illusions away,
And every loved vision of gladness
Breathe faint in the sun's parting ray.
But life's neither splendour nor sorrow,
Not wasted in grieving nor joy,
To him, who regards every morrow
A moment, but lent to employ.
The goblet not sacred to pleasure,
With the fruits of the banquet ne'er crown'd,
That goblet encloses pure treasure.
If a ray in its bosom be found.
Then mourn not the banquet that passes
Apart from festivity's din;
The nectar that brightens our glasses
Is the ray that is caught from within!

January 2.