WHAT is a day, what is a year Of vain delight and pleasure? Like to a dream it endless dies, And from us like a vapour flies: And this is all the fruit that we find, Which glory in worldly treasure. He that will hope for true delight, With virtue must be graced; Sweet folly yields a bitter taste, Which ever will appear at last: But if we still in virtue delight, Our souls are in heaven placed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A MAN CHILD IS BORN (1809) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SONNET: 24 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ROLL-CALL by NATHANIEL GRAHAM SHEPHERD THE DROWNED HIDALGO DREAMS by WILLIAM ROSE BENET AN AUTUMN SONNET by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |