Ye that still, serene in peace,
Lying in the lap of ease,
Believe the hopes of golden youth,
And have not heard the bitter truth,
How shining suns fade at a breath;
Ye, with little dread of death,
Or fear of chains and iron night
Of man's last prison, or the sight
Of gloomy Dis; that think to keep
Old age away,--look here, and weep.
Here, to this one narrow room,
A thousand joys and hopes have come;
Here bright minutes many a one
Have a lasting night put on:
Youth's torch, that flash'd such light about,
Is in the Stygian wave put out.
Then, if you grudge poor grief a tear,
Heave, at least, a sigh for fear. A.
ANOTHER RENDERING (_more freely_).
Whoe'er ye be, upgazing here,
Calm, unruffl'd, without tear;
Joyous in your golden prime,
And unwitting of the time
When shall pale Life's glowing sun,
And the web of years be spun;
Thinking not o' the iron night
Where grim Pluto reigns in might;
Thinking not of the nether world,
With its clanking chains;
Whither damned souls are hurl'd
When the Judge arraigns;
Seeing old age far away;
Making Life one holiday;--
Here perceive that Grief shall yet
Your ruddy cheeks with sorrow wet;
Here musing upon this poor stone,
Ye may learn prevention.
This Earth, what is it but a home
Fugitive as sea-wave's foam?
Mark where breaks the whit'n'd wave
'Mid the cliffs--an arched cave;
Light and shadow play within,
Flick'ring o'er its walls;
In the gloom--with Hell akin--
A dull stream slowly crawls.
E'en such is Life, how bright soe'er,
Hope and Joy lure to Despair;
And Life's stream goes plunging down
Into dark drear Acheron;
Youth's bright torch extinguish'd quite;
Golden Day exchang'd for Night:
To long night of changeless woe
Swift the Christless souls shall go.
Shun not therefore in thy prime,
Shun not whilst thou art in Time,
Tears of penitence over sin;
Or bitterly shalt thou rue,
When Death shall fling his javelin,
And Hell's prison thee immew.
Bethink thee in thy golden prime;
Bethink thee whilst thou'rt yet in Time. G.