As the bright flowers start from their wintry tomb, I've sprung from the depths of futurity's gloom; With the glory of Hope on my unshadowed brow, But a fear at my heart, earth welcomes me now....
With dirge-like music, low, Sounds forth again the solemn harp of Time; Mass for the buried hours, a funeral chime O'er human joy and woe. The sere leaves wail around thy passing bier,...