 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
176
AH, WELL-A-DAY!
Ah, well-a-day!
Man is a worm,
Weak and infirm,
A blossomless germ
Woven of clay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Man is a worm,
Weak and infirm,
A blossomless germ
Woven of clay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Woman is a dream,
A stray rose-beam
From the sunset stream,
One red ray—
Ah, well-a-day!
Woman is a dream,
A stray rose-beam
From the sunset stream,
One red ray—
Ah, well-a-day!
177
Ah, well-a-day!
Love is the light
Of an hour, in the night
It fails us quite,
Never does it stay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Love is the light
Of an hour, in the night
It fails us quite,
Never does it stay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
What is the bloom
Of youth worth? gloom
And moss on a tomb
Is the end of the way—
Ah, well-a-day!
What is the bloom
Of youth worth? gloom
And moss on a tomb
Is the end of the way—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Beauty of lips
The young man sips
Death's hand snips
With his scissors, I say—
Ah, well-a-day!
Beauty of lips
The young man sips
Death's hand snips
With his scissors, I say—
Ah, well-a-day!
178
Ah, well-a-day!
Best to be gone,
Not to be born,
To be left forlorn
In the womb of the clay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Best to be gone,
Not to be born,
To be left forlorn
In the womb of the clay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Beauty of a rose
No man knows
Till the best part goes,
Till the cankers slay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Beauty of a rose
No man knows
Till the best part goes,
Till the cankers slay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Best for us all
Like leaves to fall,
And escape from the thrall
Of our garments gray—
Ah, well-a-day!
Best for us all
Like leaves to fall,
And escape from the thrall
Of our garments gray—
Ah, well-a-day!
179
Ah, well-a-day!
Flowers are sweet,
And lips that meet,
But swift are the feet
Of the flails that flay—
Ah! well-a-day!
Flowers are sweet,
And lips that meet,
But swift are the feet
Of the flails that flay—
Ah! well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Come, let us turn,
Strong souls that burn,
To the face of the Urn,
Strong souls that stray—
Ah, well-a-day!
Come, let us turn,
Strong souls that burn,
To the face of the Urn,
Strong souls that stray—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Sweet was the hair,
And the face was fair
Of Beauty, but where
Is she gone to, pray?
Ah, well-a-day!
Sweet was the hair,
And the face was fair
Of Beauty, but where
Is she gone to, pray?
Ah, well-a-day!
180
Ah, well-a-day!
The world is mad,
We are all of us sad,
We are most of us bad,
We are weak to delay—
Ah, well-a-day!
The world is mad,
We are all of us sad,
We are most of us bad,
We are weak to delay—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
There is a child—
See, he has smiled!
Bricks he has piled
In a heap at his play—
Ah, well-a-day!
There is a child—
See, he has smiled!
Bricks he has piled
In a heap at his play—
Ah, well-a-day!
Ah, well-a-day!
Few men know
Where spring-buds blow,
And the birth of the snow
That blossoms in May—
Ah, well-a-day!
Few men know
Where spring-buds blow,
And the birth of the snow
That blossoms in May—
Ah, well-a-day!
181
Ah, well-a-day!
All men see
Agony, and flee—
Why should we be
At all, if we pay
Such a penalty, eh?
All men see
Agony, and flee—
Why should we be
At all, if we pay
Such a penalty, eh?
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