TO THE POINT.
I.
Gay is the early bloom of life's first dawn,
But darker colours tinge maturer years;
Our days as they advance grow more forlorn,
Hope's brightest dreams dissolve away in tears
Which were the best, to be or not to have been?
The question may be asked, no answer can be seen.
II.
On earth we live, within our thoughts—the slaves,
Of our conceptions in each varied mood,
Gay or melancholy;—it is the waves
Of our imaginings, become the food
The spirit preys upon; and laughs or raves
With madness or with pleasure, as it would
If drunk with liquids. WE EXIST AND DWELL
AS THE MIND MAY DISPOSE, IN HEAVEN OR IN HELL.
THEME.
Death which we dread so much, is but a name.