Oh, Do Not Look So Bright And Blest.

Oh, do not look so bright and blest,
    For still there comes a fear,
When brow like thine looks happiest,
    That grief is then most near.
There lurks a dread in all delight,
    A shadow near each ray,
That warns us then to fear their flight,
    When most we wish their stay.
Then look not thou so bright and blest,
    For ah! there comes a fear,
When brow like thine looks happiest,
    That grief is then most near.

Why is it thus that fairest things
    The soonest fleet and die?--
That when most light is on their wings,
    They're then but spread to fly!
And, sadder still, the pain will stay--
    The bliss no more appears;
As rainbows take their light away,
    And leave us but the tears!
Then look not thou so bright and blest,
    For ah! there comes a fear,
When brow like thine looks happiest,
    That grief is then most near.