I LOVE to see the blushing cheek
Of gay and joyous youth;
Its raptures, all too full to speak;
Its innocence and truth.

I grieve to think a blight may fall
Upon the lovely flower;
Its dewy perfumed leaves may all
Be scattered in an hour.

My heart, unbidden, heaves a sigh,
And breathes a silent prayer —
That storms may gently pass it by,
And time its glory spare.