BALLADS, SONGS, ETC.

To-day, dearest! is ours;

Why should Love carelessly lose it?

This life shines or lowers

Just as we, weak mortals, use it.

‘ Tis time enough, when its flowers decay,

To think of the thorns of Sorrow

And Joy, if left on the stem to-day,

May wither before to-morrow.

Then why, dearest! so long

Let the sweet moments fly over?

Tho’ now, blooming and young

Thou hast me devoutly thy lover;

Yet Time from both, in his silent lapse,

Some treasure may steal or borrow;

Thy charms may be less in bloom, perhaps,

Or I less in love to-morrow.