The happiest day — the happiest hour,
My sear’d and blighted heart has known,
The brightest glance of pride and power
I feel hath flown —
Of power, said I? Yes, such I ween —
But it has vanish’d — long alas!
The visions of my youth have been —
But let them pass. —
And pride! what have I now with thee?
Another brow may e’en inherit
The venom thou hast pour’d on me:
Be still my spirit.
The smile of love — soft friendship’s charm —
Bright hope itself has fled at last,
’T will ne’er again my bosom warm—
‘Tis ever past.
The happiest day, — the happiest hour,
Mine eyes shall see, — have ever seen, —
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel has been.