Ah! Fading Joy

Ah fading Joy! how quickly art thou past!

Yet we thy ruin haste.

As if the cars of human life were few,

We seek out new:

And follow fate, which would too fast pursue.

See how on every bough the birds express,

In their sweet notes, their happiness.

They all enjoy, and nothing spare;

But on their Mother Nature lay their care:

Why then should Man, the lord of all below,

Such troubles choose to know,

As none of all his subjects undergo?

Hark, hark, the waters fall, fall, fall,

And with a murmuring sound

Dash, dash upon the ground,

To gentle slumbers call.