Where Are the Joys I have Met?
Tune—“Saw ye my father.”
Where are the joys I have met in the morning,That danc’d to the lark’s early song?Where is the peace that awaited my wand’ring,At evening the wild-woods among?
No more a winding the course of yon river,And marking sweet flowerets so fair,No more I trace the light footsteps of Pleasure,But Sorrow and sad-sighing Care.
Is it that Summer’s forsaken our valleys,And grim, surly Winter is near?No, no, the bees humming round the gay rosesProclaim it the pride of the year.
Fain would I hide what I fear to discover,Yet long, long, too well have I known;All that has caused this wreck in my bosom,Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone.
Time cannot aid me, my griefs are immortal,Nor Hope dare a comfort bestow:Come then, enamour’d and fond of my anguish,Enjoyment I’ll seek in my woe.