Michael Eyquen de Montaigne

Oh, sweet youth, how soon it fades!
Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting!

Oh, sweet youth, how soon it fades!
Sweet joys of youth, how fleeting!

While tears that from repentance flow,
In bright exhalement reach the skies.

While tears that from repentance flow,
In bright exhalement reach the skies.

Then fill the bowl--way with gloom!
Our joys shall always last;
For Hope shall brighten days to read more

Then fill the bowl--way with gloom!
Our joys shall always last;
For Hope shall brighten days to come,
And Mem'ry gild the past.

How the Doctor's brow should smile,
Crown'd with wreaths of camomile.

How the Doctor's brow should smile,
Crown'd with wreaths of camomile.

Like the watermen who advance forward while they look backward.

Like the watermen who advance forward while they look backward.