SIT down, sad soul, and count
The moments flying:
Come,-tell the sweet amount
That -s lost by sighing!
How many smiles?-a score?
Then laugh, and count no more;
For day is dying.

Lie down, sad soul, and sleep,
And no more measure
The flight of Time, nor weep
The loss of leisure;
But here, by this lone stream,
Lie down with us, and dream
Of starry treasure.

We dream: do thou the same:
We love-for ever;
We laugh; yet few we shame,
The gentle, never.
Stay, then, till Sorrow dies;
Then-hope and happy skies
Are thine for ever!