I know that Heaven hath sent me here,
To run this mortal life’s career;
The scenes which I have journeyed o’er,
Return no more — alas! no more,
And all the path I’ve yet to go,
I neither know nor ask to know
Away, then, wizard Care, not think
Thy fetters round this soul to link;
Never can heart that feels with me
Descend to be a slave to thee!
And oh! before the vital thrill,
Which trembles at my heart, is still,
I’ll gather Joy’s luxuriant flowers,
And gild with bliss my fading hours;
Bacchus shall bid my winter bloom,
And Venus dance me to the tomb!