PERDIDI DIEM
The Emperor Titus, at the close of a day in which he had neither gained any knowledge nor conferred benefit, was accustomed to exclaim, "Perdidi diem," "I have lost a day."
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Why art thou sad, thou of the sceptred hand?
The rob'd in purple, and the high in state? Rome pours her myriads forth, a vassal band, And foreign powers are crouching at thy gate; Yet dost thou deeply sigh, as if oppressed by fate. "Perdidi diem!"—Pour the empire's treasure, Uncounted gold, and gems of rainbow dye; Unlock the fountains of a monarch's pleasure To lure the lost one back. I heard a sigh— One hour of parted time, a world is poor to buy. "Perdidi diem!"—'Tis a mournful story, Thus in the ear of pensive eve to tell, Of morning's firm resolves, the vanish'd glory, Hope's honey left within the withering bell And plants of mercy dead, that might have bloomed so well. Hail, self-communing Emperor, nobly wise! There are, who thoughtless haste to life's last goal. There are, who time's long squandered wealth despise. Perdidi vitam marks their finished scroll, When Death's dark angel comes to claim the startled soul. —Mrs. Sigourney |