All that's bright must fade,
The brightest still the fleetest ;
All that's sweet was made,
But to be lost when sweetest .
Stars that shine and fall ;
The flower that drops in springing ; -
These, alas ! are types of all
To which our hearts are clinging.
All that's bright must fade,
The brightest still the fleetest ;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest !

Who would seek or prize
Delights that end in aching ?
Who would trust to ties
That every hour are breaking ?
Better far to be
In utter darkness lying,
Than to be blessed with light and see
That light forever flying.
All that ' s bright must fade,
The brightest still the fleetest ;
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest !