It is written on the trees
As their young leaves glistening play;
And on brighter things than these—
"Passing away."
It is written on the brow
Where the spirit's ardent ray
Lives, burns, and triumphs now—
"Passing away."
It is written on the heart—
Alas! that there decay
Should claim from love a part!
"Passing away."
Friends, friends! oh! shall we meet
Where the spoiler finds no prey,
Where lovely things and sweet
Pass not away?
Shall we know each other's eyes,
With the thoughts that in them lay,
When they meet within the skies
Which pass away?
Oh! if this may be so,
Speed, speed their closing day!
How blest, from earth's vain show!
To pass away!
