I DREAMD I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
Listning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;
Thro the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Tress with aged arms were warring,
Oer the swelling drumlie wave.
Such was my lifes deceitful morning,
Such the pleasures I enjoyed:
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming
A my flowery bliss destroyd.
Tho fickle fortune has deceivd me
She promisd fair, and performd but ill,
Of mony a joy and hope bereavd me
I bear a heart shall support me still.