O'er these high rocks in torrents Unto the vale below, Then gain a course of smoothness, And gently on do flow 'Mid banks of blooming roses And snow-white lilies fair, Where butterflies are floating Upon the balmy air, With many-colored winglets, O'er fragrant violets blue, And gayly sip their nectar Mixed with the honey'd dew; To gaze upon their beauties 'Twould seem as if some fay, When roving through some garden Upon a sunny day, Had waved his wand of magic O'er rose and tulip bright, That filled with life had started Upon a joyous flight, And down the grassy meadows, And 'mid the blooming trees, To visit now their kindred, Are floating on the breeze: While from the woodland's thickets At intervals are heard The soft, melodious music Of the sweet mocking-bird; Which from those green recesses Echoes the merry notes, The little feathered songsters Pour from their warbling throats. Thus nature ever smiling, Each living creature gay Seems filled with sunny gladness Throughout the cloudless day; While I, a lonely bachelor, Do bear a bleeding heart, Just like a wounded wild goat When stricken by a dart. I've seen each tie dissolving Of love and friendship sweet, Like lumps of sugar-candy When held unto the heat: My friends they all proved traitors,-- I'm told it's always so,-- Fidelity's a stranger In this rude world below. They smoked my best havanas And drank my best champagne, And borrowed many a dollar They ne'er returned again: But soon as fortune left me, They all deserted too-- They made me half a Timon-- The sycophantic crew! I turned from man to woman-- Sweet woman to admire! But from the pan 'twas leaping Into the blazing fire! I met a lovely maiden, Who looked so very kind, I thought she was an angel, But I was very blind! Like a deceitful siren, She led me far astray; I wandered in love's mazes Until I lost my way; But when I knelt to worship, Why, then she laughed outright-- I told her I was dying, And Dora said I might. At that I grew quite angry, And feeling partly cured, Went home and ate my dinner, And then was quite restored: I ate six apple-dumplings, Then laid me down to sleep, Nor woke until next morning, Then from my couch did creep, And gazing in the mirror, The sight my soul appall'd, For I beheld with horror That I was growing bald: Since then I've known no pleasure! Man's treachery I could bear, And the deceits of woman, But not the loss of hair!