My first may grace the festive board
With rosy colors bright,
And from the pantry's spicy hoard
'Tis often brought to light.
But shared beside the mountain stream,
Or by old ocean's swell,
Where many happy lovers dream,
Its value who can tell?
My second is what you, I hope,
Will never do to me;
But lest you should, your Bible ope,
And there your fate you'll see.
But in my whole what happy hours,
What moments rare, are spent,
Kissed by the breeze to which the flowers
Their savors sweet have lent!
Through fairy-land, unknowing care,
The spirit wanders free,
While birds with music fill the air—
Oh, give my whole to me!