Pleasures! away; they please no more. Friends! are they what they were before? Loves! they are very idle things, The best about them are their wings. The dance! 'tis what the bear can do; Music; I hate your music too. Whene'er these witnesses that Time Hath snatcht the chaplet from our prime, Are call'd by Nature, as we go With eye more wary, step more slow, And will be heard and noted down, However we may fret or frown, Shall we desire to leave the scene Where all our former joys have been? No, 'twere ungrateful and unwise! But when die down our charities For human weal and human woes, This is the time our eyes should close. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO A LITTLE INVISIBLE BEING WHO IS EXPECTED SOON TO BECOME VISIBLE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE STORY OF SEVENTY-SIX by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT CHRISMUS ON THE PLANTATION by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE WILLIAM P. FRYE [FEBRUARY 28, 1915] by JEANNE ROBERT FOSTER A CHRISTMAS CAROL, SUNG TO THE KING IN THE PRESENCE AT WHITEHALL by ROBERT HERRICK FRANCE; THE 18TH YEAR OF THESE STATES by WALT WHITMAN EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS |