What Makes Me Love Thee Now, Thou Dreary Scene, And See In Each Swell'D Heap A Peaceful Bed? I Well Remember That The Time Has Been, To Walk A Church-Yard When I Us'D To Dread; And Shudder'D, As I Read Upon The Stone Of Well-Known Friends And Next-Door-Neighbours Gone. But Then I Knew No Cloudy Cares Of Life, Where Ne'er A Sunbeam Comes To Light Me Thorough; A Stranger Then To This World'S Storms And Strife, Where Ne'er A Charm Is Met To Lull My Sorrow: I Then Was Blest, And Had Not Eyes To See Life'S Future Change, And Fate'S Severe To-Morrow; When All Those Ills And Pains Should Compass Me, With No Hope Left But What I Meet In Thee.