Oh, ever thus, from childhood's hour,

I 've seen my fondest hopes decay;

I never loved a tree or flower

But 't was the first to fade away.

I never nurs'd a dear gazelle,

To glad me with its soft black eye,

But when it came to know me well

And love me, it was sure to die.

Thomas Moore (1779-1852): The Fire-Worshippers.