University of Virginia Library


45

SONNET.

How change our days! not oftener doth its hue
The lank chameleon change, than we our joys;
The bliss that feeds upon the heart destroys;
Little is done, while much remains to do:
We fix our eyes on phantoms and pursue;
We chase the airy bubbles of the brain;
We leave, for Fancy's lures, the fix'd and true;
Destroy what time hath spared, yet build again:
Years o'er us pass, and age, that comes to few,
Comes but to tell them they have lived in vain;
Sin blights — Death scatters — Hope misleads — Thought errs—
Joy's icicles melt down before Time's sun—
And, ere the ebbing sands of life be run,
Another generation earth prefers!