How vainly men themselves amaze!
The stars began to blink,
An art that there were few to praise,
Nor any drop to drink.

O sleep, it is a blessed thing
Which I must ne'er enjoy!
There never was a fairer spring
Than when I was a boy.

One fond embrace and then we part!
Good--by, my lover, good-by!
And yet it is a gentle art,
Which nobody can deny.



Occasionally


Now and then there's a couple whose conjugal life
Is happy as happy can be;
Now and then there's a man who believes that his wife
Is the One Unsurpassable She;
There are doubtless in England a great many folks
Whose humour is airy and sage;
But there never is one in American jokes
Or on the American stage