ALL the flowers of the spring Meet to perfume our burying; These have but their growing prime, And man does flourish but his time: Survey our progress from our birth -- We are set, we grow, we turn to earth. Courts adieu, and all delights, All bewitching appetites! Sweetest breath and clearest eye Like perfumes go out and die; And consequently this is done As shadows wait upon the sun. Vain the ambition of kings Who seek by trophies and dead things To leave a living name behind, And weave but nets to catch the wind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEDICATION FOR A PLOT OF GROUND by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS A NYMPH'S PASSION by BEN JONSON COBWEBS by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LOVE-LILY by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE HIGH-PRIEST TO ALEXANDER by ALFRED TENNYSON |