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Verse 1

So fades the lovely, blooming flower--
Frail smiling solace of an hour!
So soon our transient comforts fly,
And pleasure only blooms to die.

Verse 2

Is there no kind, no lenient art,
To heal the anguish of the heart?
Spirit of grace! be ever nigh,
Thy comforts are not made to die.

Verse 3

Bid gentle patience smile on pain,
Till dying hope shall live again;
Hope wipes the tear from sorrow’s eye
And faith points upward to the sky.