( IN THE BOOK OF A FRIEND WHO WAS TO START IN A MONTH ON A LONG JOURNEY) WHEN our short life has neared the end, How full of grief and bitterness Is the departure of a friend, And the last time his hand to press! Ah, welladay! At Autumn's close 'Tis all in vain that heaven bestows A few fine days, a little sun; Too soon we know their course will run. Joy, its chief power to please, from hope must borrow, To have you now, but lose to-morrow; Can only whisper to my loving heart That happiness must soon depart; Can only tell of coming sorrow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PSALM 104: THE MAJESTY AND MERCY OF GOD by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE by ELIZABETH I THE THREE TROOPERS DURING THE PROTECTORATE by GEORGE WALTER THORNBURY ON A YOUNG BRIDE DROWNED IN THE BOSPHORUS by AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS MUSIC OF HUNGARY by ANNE REEVE ALDRICH |