The Youth By The Brook

Beside the brook the boy reclined
      And wove his flowery wreath,
    And to the waves the wreath consigned--
      The waves that danced beneath.
    "So fleet mine hours," he sighed, "away
      Like waves that restless flow:
    And so my flowers of youth decay
      Like those that float below."

    "Ask not why I, alone on earth,
      Am sad in life's young time;
    To all the rest are hope and mirth
      When spring renews its prime.
    Alas! the music Nature makes,
      In thousand songs of gladness--
    While charming all around me, wakes
      My heavy heart to sadness."

    "Ah! vain to me the joys that break
      From spring, voluptuous are;
    For only one 't is mine to seek--
      The near, yet ever far!
    I stretch my arms, that shadow-shape
      In fond embrace to hold;
    Still doth the shade the clasp escape--
      The heart is unconsoled!"

    "Come forth, fair friend, come forth below,
      And leave thy lofty hall,
    The fairest flowers the spring can know
      In thy dear lap shall fall!
    Clear glides the brook in silver rolled,
      Sweet carols fill the air;
    The meanest hut hath space to hold
      A happy loving pair!"