This wretched brain gave way, and I became a wreck at random driven, without one glimpse of reason or heaven.
The light, that lies In woman's eyes, Has been my heart's undoing.
And the heart that is soonest awake to the flowers is always the first to be touch'd by the thorns.
Like ships that have gone down at sea, when heaven was all tranquillity.
And soon, too soon, we part with pain, To sail o'er silent seas again.
Fond memory brings the light of other days around me.