CLASSICAL MODERN POETRY. 



Like to a bubble in a brook, 



Or in a glass much like a look, 



Or like the shuttle in weaver's hand, 



Or like the writing on the sand, 



Or like a thought, or like a dream, 



Or like the gliding of a stream ; 



Even such is man, who lives by breath, 



Is here, now there, in life and death ! 

 The bubble's out, the look's forgot, 

 The shuttle's flung, the writing's blot, 

 The thought is past, the dream is gone, 

 The waters glide, man's life is done. 



Like to an arrow from a bow, 



Or like swift course of water-flow, 



Or like that time 'twixt flood and ebb, 



Or like the spider's tender web, 



Or like a race, or like a goal, 



Or like the dealing of a dole ; 



Even such is man, whose brittle state 



Is always subject unto fate. 



The arrow's shot, the flood soon spent, 

 The time no time, the web soon rent, 

 The race soon run, the goal soon won, 

 The dole soon dealt, man's life soon done. 



Like to the lightning from the sky, 



Or like a post that quick doth hie, 



Or like a quaver in a song, 



Or like a journey three days long, 



Or like the snow when summer's come, 



Or like the pear, or like the plum ; 



Even such is man, who heaps up sorrow, 



Lives but this day, and dies to-morrow. 

 The lightning's past, the post must go. 

 The song is short, the journey so, 

 The pear doth rot, the plum doth fall, 

 The snow dissolves, and so must all. 



WASTELL. 



