Our first young love resembles

  That short but brilliant ray,

Which smiles and weeps and trembles

Thro' April's earliest day.

And not all life before us,

  Howe'er its lights may play,

Can shed a lustre o'er us

  Like that first April ray.

Our summer sun may squander

A blaze serener, grander;

      Our autumn beam

      May, like a dream

  Of heaven, die calm away;

But no—let life before us

  Bring all the light it may,

'Twill ne'er shed lustre o'er us

  Like that first youthful ray.