I know that Heaven hath sent me here,

To run this mortal life's career;

The scenes which I have journeyed o'er,

Return no more—alas! no more!

And all the path I've yet to go,

I neither know nor ask to know.

Away, then, wizard Care, nor think

Thy fetters round this soul to link;

Never can heart that feels with me

Descend to be a slave to thee!

And oh! before the vital thrill,

Which trembles at my heart is still,

I'll gather Joy's luxuriant flowers,

And gild with bliss my fading hours;

Bacchus shall bid my winter bloom,

And Venus dance me to the tomb!