Light and Shade

THE gayest lot heneath
By Grief is shaded:
Pale Evening sees the wreath
Of Morning faded.

Pain slays, or Pleasure cloys;
All mortal morrows
But waken hollow joys
Or lasting sorrows.

Hope yesternoon was bright —
Earth beamed with beauty;
But soon came conquering Night
And claimed his booty.

Life's billows, as they roll,
Would fain look sunward;
But ever must the soul
Drift darkly onward.

The sun forsakes the sky,
Sad stars are sovereigns,
Long shadows mount on high
And Darkness governs.

So Love deserts his throne,
Weary of reigning!
Ah! would he but rule on
Young and unwaning!

Pain slays, or Pleasure cloys,
And all our morrows
But waken hollow joys
Or lasting sorrows.