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And when the day's declining hour
Succeeds with mild and pleasing power
Of mellow light refined;
When the charmed zephyr folds his wing,
And the glad birds enamoured sing,
Their vesper warblings sweetly bring
Peace to the wearied mind.
Succeeds with mild and pleasing power
Of mellow light refined;
When the charmed zephyr folds his wing,
And the glad birds enamoured sing,
Their vesper warblings sweetly bring
Peace to the wearied mind.
Alas! the stream of Health no more
Will through life's languid currents pour
Her mild and genial sway;
Nor can the beauties of the plain,
With all their balmy gifts, restrain
The agony of poignant pain,—
The wastings of decay.
Will through life's languid currents pour
Her mild and genial sway;
Nor can the beauties of the plain,
With all their balmy gifts, restrain
The agony of poignant pain,—
The wastings of decay.
Health from that blooming bower was gone,
When suppliant there I could but mourn
That her reviving breath
No more would fan my aching brow,
Nor hope within my breast allow,
Nor fell, unyielding sickness bow
Her gentle power beneath.
When suppliant there I could but mourn
That her reviving breath
No more would fan my aching brow,
Nor hope within my breast allow,
Nor fell, unyielding sickness bow
Her gentle power beneath.
No more, on me. Earth's treasures shed
Their healing power; the balsam's fled
From Nature's balmy breath;
No more this wasted frame again
Trips lightly o'er the flowery plain,
But on the couch of withering pain
Sinks in untimely death.
Their healing power; the balsam's fled
From Nature's balmy breath;
No more this wasted frame again
Trips lightly o'er the flowery plain,
But on the couch of withering pain
Sinks in untimely death.
