Pain and sorrow shall vanish before us—

  Youth may wither, but feeling will last;

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er us

  Love's light summer-cloud only shall cast.

    Oh, if to love thee more

    Each hour I number o'er—

    If this a passion be

    Worthy of thee,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee.

  Charms may wither, but feeling shall last:

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee,

  Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.

Rest, dear bosom, no sorrows shall pain thee,

  Sighs of pleasure alone shalt thou steal;

Beam, bright eyelid, no weeping shall stain thee,

  Tears of rapture alone shalt thou feel.

      Oh, if there be a charm,

      In love, to banish harm—

      If pleasure's truest spell

        Be to love well,

Then be happy, for thus I adore thee,

  Charms may wither, but feeling shall last;

All the shadow that e'er shall fall o'er thee.

  Love's light summer-cloud sweetly shall cast.