 | The Poetical Works of John Payne |  |
AD ZOÏLOS.
CHIDE me who will for that my song is sadAnd all my fancy follows on the wave
That bears our little being to the grave!
When did it fail that those—whose lives were glad
For lack of light and want of virtue had
To know the mystery and the hair-hung glaive
That shadow all our life so seeming brave—
The accusing wail of those that weep forbad?
Peace, triflers! Peace, dull ears and heedless eyne!
Yet haply Time unto your foolish fears
Shall yield a mocking áccord and the years,
Falling full-fated on these days of mine,
Crush from the grapes of grief a bitter wine
Of laughters, sadder than the saddest tears.
| The Poetical Works of John Payne | |