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...IN 'DESIGNING A CLOAK TO CLOAK HIS DESIGNS' YOU WRESTED FROM OBLIVION by MARIANNE MOORE THE WOUNDED CUPID. SONG by ANACREON THE BRIDGE BUILDER by WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE SESTINA OF THE TRAMP ROYAL by RUDYARD KIPLING COWLEY: THE GARDEN by ALEXANDER POPE A CRADLE SONG OF THE NIGHT WIND by WILLIS BOYD ALLEN THE PRIDE OF WESTMORELAND by GORDON BOTTOMLEY DIRGE ON THE DEATH OF ADAMS AND JEFFERSON by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |