Oh, happiness, happiness,
Is a fair flower.
Ah, the more ’tis a pity
Its roots last an hour.

Comes a wind, it is broken,
Water has power
To spoil it without pity,
It lasts but an hour.

Oh, misery, misery,
Most bitter thy root.
From thee never a flower
Nor leaf, nor green shoot.

Oh, how many, how many
The heart that must ache,
At hopes unattainable,
And at last must break.