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.