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.