Weep not, fair lady, for the false,
The fickle love's rememberance,
What though another claim the waltz--
The curtain soon will close the dance.
Grieve not, pale lover, for the sweet,
Wild moment of thy vanished bliss;
The longest scene as Time is fleet--
The curtain soon will close the kiss.
And thou, too vain, too flattered mime,
Drink deep the pleasures of thy day,
No ruin is too mean for Time--
The curtain soon will close the play.