Saturday, April 03, 2010


The flower that smiles today
                      Tomorrow dies;
All that we wish to stay,
                      Tempts and then flies.
What is this world's delight?
Lightning that mocks the night,
   Brief even as bright.

Virtue, how frail it is!    
                       Friendship how rare!
Love, how it sells poor bliss
                       For proud despair!
But we, though soon they fall,
Survive their joy and all
  Which ours we call.

Whilst skies are blue and bright,
                       Whilst flowers are gay,
Whilst eyes that change ere night
                        Make glad the day,
Whilst yet the calm hours creep,
Dream thou--and from thy sleep
  Then wake to weep.
 --Percy Bysshe Shelley

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