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It sped me back to happier hours,
When all around was bright;
When youthful fancy trod on flow'rs,
In regions of delight:
It told of hopes which now are fled,
Of friends long number'd with the dead.
When all around was bright;
When youthful fancy trod on flow'rs,
In regions of delight:
It told of hopes which now are fled,
Of friends long number'd with the dead.
It told of friendship, love, and truth,
Of all to mem'ry dear,
Of all the bosom joys of youth,
And of their brief career;
But soon the sweet illusion broke,
To cold reality I woke,
Of all to mem'ry dear,
Of all the bosom joys of youth,
And of their brief career;
But soon the sweet illusion broke,
To cold reality I woke,
And heard, instead of music's tone,
My own long, deep-drawn sigh;
The stifled sob, the anguish'd groan,
My own long, deep-drawn sigh;
The stifled sob, the anguish'd groan,
