Illusive gardens rise, and fountains play,
They vanish like the rainbow after rain.
Or if by chance a sunbeam gone astray
Glints through the gloom that shrouds them evermore,
A chilling cloud obscures th’ unwonted ray.
The wisest plans but mock their hopes the more,
Bringing them to derision and dismay:
The sea engulfs them though they hug the shore.
The tree shall crush them, hollow with decay,
Whose grateful shade invites them to draw nigh: