Can he be fair, that withers at a blast ?
Or he be strong, that airy breath becast ?
Can he be wise, that knows not how to live ?
Or he be rich, that nothing hath to give ?
Can he be young, that's feeble, weak, and wan ?
So fair, strong, wise,—so rich, so young, is man.
So fair is man, that death (a parting blast)
Blasts his fair flower, and makes him earth at last;
So strong is man, that with a gasping breath
He totters and bequeaths his strength to death ;
So wise is man, that if with death he strive,
His wisdom cannot teach him how to live ;
So rich is man, that (all his debts being paid)
His wealth’s the winding-sheet wherein he's laid ;
So young is man, that (broke with care and sorrow)
He's old enough to-day to die to-morrow.
Why bragg'st thou then, thou worm of five foot long ?
Thou’rt neither fair, nor strong, nor wise, nor rich, nor
FAREWELL those eyes, whose gentle smiles forsook
No misery, taught Charity how to look.
Farewell those cheerful eyes, that did erewhile
Teach succored Misery how to bless a smile :
Farewell those eyes, whose mixed aspect of late
Did reconcile humility and state.
Farewell those eyes, that to their joyful guest
Proclaimed their ordinary fare, a feast.
Farewell those eyes, the loadstars late whereby
The graces sailed secure from eye to eye.
Farewell, dear eyes, bright lamps—0) who can tell
Your glorious welcome, or our sad farewell !