Ye joyous ones! upon whose brow

The light of youth is shed,

O’er whose glad path life’s early flowers

In glowing beauty spread;

Forget not Him whose love hath poured

Around that golden light,

And tinged those opening buds of hope

With hues so softly bright.

Thou tempted one! just entering

Upon enchanted ground,

Ten thousand snares are spread for thee,

Ten thousand foes surround:

A dark and a deceitful band,

Upon thy path they lower;

Trust not thine own unaided strength

To save thee from their power.

Thou whose yet bright and joyous eye

May soon be dimmed with tears,

To whom the hours of bitterness

Must come in coming years;

Teach early thy confiding eye

To pierce the cloudy screen,

To look above the storms of life,

Eternally serene.