WHY, why repine, my pensive friend, br    At pleasures slipp'd away? br Some the stern Fates will never lend, br    And all refuse to stay. br br I see the rainbow in the sky, br    The dew upon the grass; br I see them, and I ask not why br    They glimmer or they pass. br br With folded arms I linger not br    To call them back; 'twere vain: br In this, or in some other spot, br    I know they'll shine again.