VANITAS
Reading edition
THE glory of Life is fleeting; Its splendour passeth away, With tints and odours meeting The flowers we twined to-day.
How brightly, in varied light, They reflected the morning sun; But the chilling dews of the night Withered them one by one.
So the stream of Existence floweth O'er the golden sands of youth, In the light of a joy that gloweth From the depths of its love and truth.
But heavy, and cold, and fast, The gathering clouds uprise, Eclipsing the light, which cast On the waters a thousand dyes.
And onward, in sullen endeavour, Like a stream in a sunless cave, It floweth in darkness ever: Yet—could we thus reach the grave!
But we wake to a sorrow deeper— The knowledge of all we have lost; And the light grows fainter and weaker As we're borne from youth's sunny coast.
Yet onward with drifting motion, Still farther from life and light; Around us a desert Ocean— Above us eternal Night.