Discontentment.
OO IF we never knew the genial hourWhen Happiness sits by us like a godDispensing treasures, we would never knowThe barren sadness of the common day,The weariness, and discontentment sourAt human life—its ordinary loadOf hopes deferred, and presences that flowSmilingly past us, syrens in the dreamOf young imagination, fancy-fed.O I have seen such beauties with the gleamOf fairy sunshine on them, and I longUpon their bosoms this my life awayTo dally, like the lover in a song,And be a luting swain, Arcadian bred!
OO IF we never knew the genial hourWhen Happiness sits by us like a godDispensing treasures, we would never knowThe barren sadness of the common day,The weariness, and discontentment sourAt human life—its ordinary loadOf hopes deferred, and presences that flowSmilingly past us, syrens in the dreamOf young imagination, fancy-fed.O I have seen such beauties with the gleamOf fairy sunshine on them, and I longUpon their bosoms this my life awayTo dally, like the lover in a song,And be a luting swain, Arcadian bred!
OO IF we never knew the genial hourWhen Happiness sits by us like a godDispensing treasures, we would never knowThe barren sadness of the common day,The weariness, and discontentment sourAt human life—its ordinary loadOf hopes deferred, and presences that flowSmilingly past us, syrens in the dreamOf young imagination, fancy-fed.O I have seen such beauties with the gleamOf fairy sunshine on them, and I longUpon their bosoms this my life awayTo dally, like the lover in a song,And be a luting swain, Arcadian bred!
O