The Spring Of Life Is O'Er With Me, And Love And All Gone By; Like Broken Bough Upon Yon Tree, I'm Left To Fade And Die. Stern Ruin Seized My Home And Me, And Desolate'S My Cot: Ruins Of Halls, The Blasted Tree, Are Emblems Of My Lot. I Lived And Loved, I Woo'D And Won, Her Love Was All To Me, But Blight Fell O'Er That Youthful One, And Like A Blasted Tree I Withered, Till I All Forgot But Mary'S Smile On Me; She Never Lived Where Love Was Not, And I From Bonds Was Free. The Spring It Clothed The Fields With Pride, When First We Met Together; And Then Unknown To All Beside We Loved In Sunny Weather; We Met Where Oaks Grew Overhead, And Whitethorns Hung With May; Wild Thyme Beneath Her Feet Was Spread, And Cows In Quiet Lay. I Thought Her Face Was Sweeter Far Than Aught I'd Seen Before-- As Simple As The Cowslips Are Upon The Rushy Moor: She Seemed The Muse Of That Sweet Spot, The Lady Of The Plain, And All Was Dull Where She Was Not, Till We Met There Again.