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The Lonely Man.—A Song.

The sun brightly shines in a clear azure sky,
Enliv’ning all nature to gladness and joy;
But me, an exception, I wander and sigh,
Though all may seem pleasing, how sad, sad am I.

The beautiful landscape may offer its charms,
Of fields and of forests, of hamlets and farms;
And flowers give their fragrance to cheer, yet I sigh,
All nature looks lovely—but sad, sad am I.

The birds sweetly singing, their happiness tell,
With song answ’ring song, how their harmonies swell!
Complete, are their pleasures—no cares them annoy,
Thus nature is joyful, while sad, sad am I.

I muse by the streamlet, and there could I weep,
But tears even fail me, my grief is so deep;
The waters flow softly, and purling in joy,
So cheerful is nature, while sad, sad am I

Oh, why is such sorrow the doom I must bear,
And why my affections the prey of dispair?
My heart now is lonely and makes me thus sigh,
All nature is cheery, while sad, sad am I.

Love; Friendship; Nature; SadnessSee each has his partner, a kind bosom friend,
Who with all his sorrows her soothings can blend;
But me, I’m forsaken—affection’s sweet tie
Assunder is broken—how sad, sad am I!

My fate must I mourn till this life ebbs its tide,
Since she whom I loved has forsaken my side;
So farewell to pleasures while thus made to sigh—
How cheerful is nature while sad, sad am I.