John Rudolph Sutermeister

OH! for my bright and faded hours

When life was like a summer stream,

On whose gay banks the virgin flowers

Blush’d in the morning’s rosy beam;

Or danced upon the breeze that bare

Its store of rich perfume along,

While the wood-robin pour’d on air

The ravishing delights of song.

The sun look’d from his lofty cloud,

While flow’d its sparkling waters fair—

And went upon his path-way proud,

And threw a brighter lustre there;

And smiled upon the golden heaven,

And on the earth’s sweet loveliness,

Where light, and joy, and song were given,

The glad and fairy scene to bless!

Ah! these were bright and joyous hours,

When youth awoke from boyhood’s dream,

To see life’s Eden dress’d in flowers,

While young hope bask’d in morning’s beam!

And proffer’d thanks to heaven above,

While glow’d his fond and grateful breast,

Who spread for him that scene of love

And made him so supremely blest!

That scene of love!—where hath it gone?

Where have its charms and beauty sped?

My hours of youth, that o’er me shone—

Where have their light and splendor fled?

Into the silent lapse of years—

And I am left on earth to mourn:

And I am left! to drop my tears

O’er memory’s lone and icy urn!

Yet why pour forth the voice of wail

O’er feeling’s blighted coronal?

Ere many gorgeous suns shall fail,

I shall be gather’d in my pall;

Oh, my dark hours on earth are few—

My hopes are crush’d, my heart is riven;—

And I shall soon bid life adieu,

To seek enduring joys in heaven!