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Oh, I mourn my former folly,
Waves of sorrow o'er me roll.

Lo! I hear the air resounding
With expiring insect's's cries,
Ah! their moans to me how wounding,
Emblem of my aged sighs.

Hollow sounds about are roaring,
Noisy water round me rise,
While I sit my fate deploring
Tears fast falling from my eyes.

Then what to me is autumn's treasure
Since I have no earthly joy,
Long I have lost all youthful pleasure,
Time must youth and health destroy.

Pleasure once I fondly courted,
Blooming as the blushing rose,
Now to view the scenes I have sported,
Oh! embitters all my woes.

Age and sorrow since have blasted
Every youthful pleasing dream,
Quivering age with youth contrasted,
Oh! how short the glory seems."