Chapter XX

Dear happy days, forever fled,
I too must wither, and be dead.
I too must droop; oh bear me up!
A look shall be my cordial cup!
Ah this is my last glance:—nay, this!
I feel an awful dizziness!
Fling wide the casement—let me see
The last dear day-light fade on me!
Oh—and the breezes let me smell;
I know the scent of Spring-time well!
And there’s a little songster winging;
And hark, ’tis Robin Red-breast singing!
And there the glorious sun goes down!
My life’s last sun! oh hold; oh why
So hasten o’er the woodlands brown,
And leave me in the dark to die!
Would God! that mountain were away,
So I might see the sunset longer!
Stop, stop!—ah naught can stop the Day;
And yet mine agony grows stronger!
Oh see how fast his golden ray
Sinks—sinks! I’m sure, before, it never
Went half so fast! Stay, stay, oh stay!
Ah there ’tis going!—gone forever!