Oh! bid me not so soon decide,
On what, through life, to me,
Or weal or wo my heart betide,
A changeless fate must be!

The gamester pauses ere he toss
The dice, on which depends
His worshipped gold — that glittering dross,
Which with existence ends; —

But I must stake a priceless wealth —
Hope — happiness and love —
My peace on earth — my young heart's health —
And more — my bliss above!