What blissful thrills of merriment are found, By youthful riders, as they swirl around Astride those painted steeds with staring eyes, That gravely rock to blatant melodies! With joyous zest they ride—nor give a care To him who watchfully collects each fare; But, at his word, those circling steeds are still, And riders must dismount against their will. 'Tis even so in life: Time swiftly rolls The fleeting years around—and takes the tolls. Scant heed we pay him as our lives we spend, Till, lo! he calls a halt—and comes The End. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RABBI BEN EZRA by ROBERT BROWNING THE MILKMAID'S SONG by SYDNEY THOMPSON DOBELL MR. FLOOD'S PARTY by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON FOUR PRELUDES ON PLAYTHINGS OF THE WIND by CARL SANDBURG THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET by SAMUEL WOODWORTH WOO NOT THE WORLD by MUHAMMAD AL-MU'TAMID II |