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75
“THE FASHION OF THIS WORLD PASSETH AWAY.”
1 Corinthians VII. 31.
A Rose upon her mossy stem,
Fair Queen of Flora's gay domain,
All graceful wore her diadem,
The brightest 'mid the brilliant train;
But Evening came, with frosty breath,
And ere the quick return of Day,
Her beauties in the blight of death
Had past away.
Fair Queen of Flora's gay domain,
All graceful wore her diadem,
The brightest 'mid the brilliant train;
But Evening came, with frosty breath,
And ere the quick return of Day,
Her beauties in the blight of death
Had past away.
I saw when morning gemmed the sky
A fair young creature gladly rove,
Her moving lip was melody,
Her varying smile the charm of love,
At eve I came—but on her bed
She drooped—with forehead pale as clay,
“What dost thou here?”—she faintly said
“Passing away.”
A fair young creature gladly rove,
Her moving lip was melody,
Her varying smile the charm of love,
At eve I came—but on her bed
She drooped—with forehead pale as clay,
“What dost thou here?”—she faintly said
“Passing away.”
I looked on manhood's towering form
Like some tall oak when tempests blow,
That scorns the fury of the storm
And strongly strikes its root below,
Again I looked,—with idiot cower
His vacant eye's unmeaning ray
Told how the mind of godlike power
May pass away.
Like some tall oak when tempests blow,
That scorns the fury of the storm
And strongly strikes its root below,
Again I looked,—with idiot cower
His vacant eye's unmeaning ray
76
May pass away.
Of Earth I asked, with deep surprise,
Hast thou no more enduring grace,
To lure thy trusting votaries
Along their toil-worn, shadowy race?
She answered not,—the grave replied,
“Lo! to my sceptre's silent sway
Her boasted beauty, pomp and pride,
Must pass away.”
Hast thou no more enduring grace,
To lure thy trusting votaries
Along their toil-worn, shadowy race?
She answered not,—the grave replied,
“Lo! to my sceptre's silent sway
Her boasted beauty, pomp and pride,
Must pass away.”
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