Untitled poem - life by W. DRUMMOND.
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| Untitled poem - life | |
| This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children's breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might Like to an eye of gold to be fix'd there, And firm to hover in that empty height, That only is because it is so light. --But in that pomp it doth not long appear; For when 'tis most admiréd, in a thought, Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought. |
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| W. DRUMMOND., THE GOLDEN TREASURY Of the best Songs and Lyrical Pieces In the English Language Selected by Francis Turner Palgrave | |
