On the Vanity of YOUTHFUL HOPES

In life's gay morn, what vivid hues Adorn the animating views, By flattering fancy drawn! No Storms with gloomy aspects rise, To cloud the azure of the skies, No mists obscure the dawn.

With looks invariably gay, Young expectation points the way To ever blissful shades, Where odors scent the breath of morn Where roses bloom without a thorn, And music fills the glades.

Enraptur'd with the distant view, Youth thinks its fictious beauties true, And springs the prize to gain; His grasp the gay illusion flies; Experience thus the cheat descries, And proves his hopes were vain.

The path of life though flowers adorn, Yet often will the rugged thorn Amidst the flowers rise; Expect not then on earth to share Enjoyments unallay by care, But seek it in the skies.