 | [Poems by Dwight in] American poems, selected and original |  |
68
A SONG.
Look, lovely maid, on yonder flow'r,
And see that busy fly,
Made for the enjoyment of an hour,
And only born to die.
And see that busy fly,
Made for the enjoyment of an hour,
And only born to die.
See, round the rose he lightly moves,
And wantons in the sun,
His little life in joy improves,
And lives, before 'tis gone.
And wantons in the sun,
His little life in joy improves,
And lives, before 'tis gone.
From this instinctive wisdom, learn,
The present hour to prize;
Nor leave to-day's supreme concern,
'Till morrow's morn arise.
The present hour to prize;
Nor leave to-day's supreme concern,
'Till morrow's morn arise.
Say, lovliest fair, canst thou divine
That morrow's hidden doom?
Know'st thou, if cloudless skies will shine,
Or heaven be wrapt in gloom?
That morrow's hidden doom?
Know'st thou, if cloudless skies will shine,
Or heaven be wrapt in gloom?
Fond man, the trifle of a day,
Enjoys the morning light,
Nor knows, his momentary play
Must end, before 'tis night.
Enjoys the morning light,
Nor knows, his momentary play
Must end, before 'tis night.
The present joys are all we claim;
The past are in the tomb;
And, like the poet's dream of fame,
The future never come.
The past are in the tomb;
And, like the poet's dream of fame,
The future never come.
69
No longer then, fair maid, delay
The promis'd scenes of bliss;
Nor idly give another day,
The joys assign'd to this.
The promis'd scenes of bliss;
Nor idly give another day,
The joys assign'd to this.
If then my breast can soothe thy care,
'Twill now that care allay;
If joy this hand can yield, my fair,
'Twill yield that joy to-day.
'Twill now that care allay;
If joy this hand can yield, my fair,
'Twill yield that joy to-day.
Quit then, oh quit! thou lovely maid,
Thy bashful, virgin pride;
To-day the happy plot be laid,
The bands, to-morrow, tied!
Thy bashful, virgin pride;
To-day the happy plot be laid,
The bands, to-morrow, tied!
The purest joys shall be our own,
That e'er to man were giv'n;
And those bright scenes, on earth begun,
Shall brighter shine in heaven.
That e'er to man were giv'n;
And those bright scenes, on earth begun,
Shall brighter shine in heaven.
| [Poems by Dwight in] American poems, selected and original | |