Why do ye wither, flow'rets?

Why do ye wither, flow'rets so fair?

Gone as the dewdrops fade at noon!

Mine, when the bright hours were gladd'ning the air,

Biding a summer's dawn!

Ah! thus fade the hopes of our childhood,

When years bring us sorrow to chill the heart;

Our dreams, like the flow'rs of the wild-wood,

How soon from our lives they depart!

Fade not from us, fair flowers!

Why do ye wither, ye flow'rets so sweet?

Sunlight and gladness still are below;

Thus, in the heart, while the smiles on our lips may be beaming,

Our hopes may be shrouded in woe!