Woodcuts and Verses | ||
27
THE HOURGLASS.
Poets loiter all their leisure,
Culling flowers of rhyme;
Thus they twine the wreath of pleasure
Round the glass of time:
Twining flowers of rhyme.
Culling flowers of rhyme;
Thus they twine the wreath of pleasure
Round the glass of time:
Twining flowers of rhyme.
Fancy's Children, ever heedless!
Why thus bribe the hours?
Death, to prove the trouble needless,
Withers all your flowers:
Why then bribe the hours?
Why thus bribe the hours?
Death, to prove the trouble needless,
Withers all your flowers:
Why then bribe the hours?
Like the Sand, so fast retreating,
Thus your hopes shall fall;
Life and fame are just as fleeting;
Poets, flowers, and all:
Thus your fancies fall.
Thus your hopes shall fall;
Life and fame are just as fleeting;
Poets, flowers, and all:
Thus your fancies fall.
Woodcuts and Verses | ||