26 “—BUT WISDOM IS JUSTIFIED OF HER CHILDREN”

Phyllida, spring wakes about us— Wakes to mock at us and flout us That so coldly do delay: When the very birds are mating, Pray you, why should we be waiting— We that might be wed to-day? Life is brief, the wise men tell us;— Even those dusty, musty fellows That have done with life,—and pass Where the wraith of Aristotle Hankers, vainly, for a bottle, Youth and some frank Grecian lass. Ah, I warrant you;—and Zeno Would not reason, now, could he know One more chance to live and love: For, at best, the merry May-time Is a very fleeting playtime;— Why, then, waste an hour thereof? Plato, Solon, Periander, Seneca, Anaximander, Pyrrho, and Parmenides! Were one hour alone remaining Would ye spend it in attaining Learning, or to lips like these? Thus, I demonstrate by reason Now is our predestined season For the garnering of all bliss; Prudence is but long-faced folly; Cry a fig for melancholy! Seal the bargain with a kiss.