A swift, successive chain of things,
That flash, kaleidoscope-like, now in,
Now straight, now eddying in wild rings,
No order, neither law, compels their
But endless, constant, always swiftly
Wild seas of tossing, writhing waves,
A wreck half-sinking in the tortuous
One man clings desperately, while Boreas
And helps to blot the rays of moon
Then comes a sudden flash of light,
which gleams on shores afar.
A bed of roses, pleasing to the eye,64Flowers of heaven, passionate and
Upon this bed the youthful often lie,
And pressing hard upon its sweet
The cruel thorns piece soul and heart,
and cause a woeful blight.
A traveller who has always heard
That on this journey he some day must
Yet shudders now, when at the fatal
He starts upon the lonesome, dreary
The past, a page of joy and woe,--
the future, none can say.
Blind clinging to a stern, stone cross,
Or it may be of frailer make;
Eyes shut, ears closed to earth's drear
Immovable, serene, the world away
From thoughts--the mind uncaring
for another day.