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REGRETS.
Or stern our mood may be;
That shadow follows in our steps,
And speaks continually.
That shadow follows in our steps,
And speaks continually.
Of wasted moments hear it tell,
Thrown by neglectfully,
And thickly as the dry, dull sands
Along a summer-sea—
Ah! shining dust, how rich were all,
Could ye but gathered be!
Thrown by neglectfully,
And thickly as the dry, dull sands
Along a summer-sea—
Ah! shining dust, how rich were all,
Could ye but gathered be!
But gone forever from the shore
Of careless human life,
Untasted joys that keep no more
The cup of feeling rife;
We catch at shadows and lose all
The substance in the strife.
Of careless human life,
Untasted joys that keep no more
The cup of feeling rife;
We catch at shadows and lose all
The substance in the strife.
So toil we on from hour to hour,
Still fearful of delay,
Dropping at every step some flower
That cheer'd us on the way,
And gathering tears within our hearts
To shed another day.
Still fearful of delay,
Dropping at every step some flower
That cheer'd us on the way,
And gathering tears within our hearts
To shed another day.
Yet still, at every step we take,
By shore or sunny sea,
When life is wrapped in weariness,
By shore or sunny sea,
When life is wrapped in weariness,
