That bright faith of Fancy which only may be In the morning of manhood enthroned in the brain,When once 'tis dissolved, -- as a rainbow might flee, Or impaired, -- like the weary moon far on the wane;Oh the apple of Eden has dropt from life's tree, And the leaves -- the leaves only remain!
'Tis true we may still, as if happily free, Be numbered in Gayety's glittering train;The glad things of Nature still pleasant may be, And the lodestar of Beauty attract us again;Yet the apple of Eden has dropt from life's tree, And the fading leaves only remain!
For still, though in reason's cold light we may see That bright faith of Fancy look wraith like and vain,Nor less do we feel (though too stern, it may be, Of a strange vacant ache in the heart to complain)That the apple of Eden has dropt from life's tree, While the faded leaves only remain!
