And the bard all sorrows scorning,
Who, though old, still joins your ring,
With gay wreaths of flowers adorning
Crown him that he still may sing.

Youth, those moments so entrancing,
Spend in sports and pleasures gay,
Mirth and singing, love and dancing,
Like a shade thou'lt pass away!






STANZAS.

BY NELAIDINSKY.


He whose soul from sorrow dreary,
Weak and wretched, nought can save,
Who in sadness, sick and weary,
Hopes no refuge but the grave;
On his visage Pleasure beaming,
Ne'er shall shed her placid ray,
Till kind Fate, from wo redeeming,
Leads him to his latest day.

Thou this life preservest ever,