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[In vain we reach at Joys; in vain]
  
  
  


277

[In vain we reach at Joys; in vain]

To Mr. D---
London, February 12, 1717.

279

In vain we reach at Joys; in vain
Thro' Labours struggle to Renown;
Soon as the hop'd-for Good we gain,
And call the flying Bliss our own,
The with'ring Hand of cruel Fate
Throws all the brittle Building down,
And cuts the Thread of Life, and closes up our Date!

280

Pompous awhile fantastick Man appears,
And idly vaunts his Span of Years;
Then yields to Heav'n the wand'ring Breath it gave,
And silent wastes, forgotten in the Grave!
So the gay Flow'rs, that on the bloomy Plain
Blush in their Morning Pride around,
At Noon, with sudden Show'rs of Rain,
Are wash'd away, and scatter'd on the Ground.