Power's a cheat, success but trying,
Even pleasure bears a sting;
Still tis useless, useless sighing,
Rather list to Hope replying
The flowers must come again with spring;
And in the trampled way we re going
Streams of comfort yet are flowing
Hark! I hear them murmuring.
Fames a liar in the nation!
Love hath oft a wayward wing;
Still, hence seek not for occasion
To impugn Hopes sweet persuasion
The flowers will come again with spring;
And in the world-wide way we re going
Streams of pure good yet are flowing
Hark! I hear them murmuring.
Friendship turns, itself denying
Even Truth the heart may wring;
Still, though trust be daily dying,
Listen still to Hope replying
The flowers will come again with spring:
And in the blasted way we re going
Theres yet one healing current flowing
Hark! I hear it murmuring.
