We are as clouds that veil the midnight moon
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly! yet soon
Night closes round, and they are last forever
Or like forgotten lyres, whose dissonant strings
Give various response to each varying blast.
To whose frail frame no second motion brings
One mood or modulation like the last
We rest. A dream has power to poison sleep;
We rise. One wandering thought pollutes the day;
We feel, conceive or reason,laugh or weep;
Embrace fond wose, or cast our cares away;
It is the same! For, be it joy or sorrow,
The path of its departure still is free
Man's yesterday may ne'er be like his morrow;
Nought may endure but Mutability