Smit with those charms that must decay, I grieve to see your future doom They died- nor were those flowers more gay, The flowers that did in Eden bloom Unpitying frosts, and Autumns power Shall leave no vestige of this flower From morning suns and evening dews At first thy little being came If nothing once, you nothing ose For when you die you are the same The space between is but an2 Smit with those charms, that must decay, I grieve to see your future doom; They died - nor were those flowers more gay, The flowers that did in Eden bloom; Unpitying frosts, and Autumn's power Shall leave no vestige of this flower. From morning suns and evening dews At first thy little being came: If nothing once, you nothing lose, For when you die you are the same; The space between, is but an