Then talk no more of future gloom;
Our joys shall always last;
For Hope shall brighten days to come,
And Memory gild the past.
Come, Chloe, fill the genial bowl,
I drink to Love and thee:
Thou never canst decay in soul,
Thou'lt still be young for me.
And as thy; lips the tear-drop chase,
Which on my cheek they find,
So hope shall steal away the trace
That sorrow leaves behind.
Then fill the bowl--away with gloom!
Our joys shall always last;
For Hope shall brighten days to come,
And Memory gild the past.
But mark, at thought of future years
When love shall lose its soul,
My Chloe drops her timid tears,
They mingle with my bowl.
How like this bowl of wine, my fair,
Our loving life shall fleet;
Though tears may sometimes mingle there,
The draught will still be sweet.
Then fill the cup--away with gloom!
Our joys shall always last;
For Hope will brighten days to come,
And Memory gild the past.
SONG.
Have you not seen the timid tear,
Steal trembling from mine eye?
Have you not marked the flush of fear,
Or caught the murmured sigh?
And can you think my love is chill,
Nor fixt on you alone?
And can you rend, by doubting still,
A heart so much your own?
To you my soul's affections move,
Devoutly, warmly true;
My life has been a task of love,
One long, long thought of you.
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