Envy with sharp malignant eyes,
Satire with poisoned poignant dart,
Shall all conspire to pierce thine heart;
And, in thy short and brilliant reign,
These fiends may give thee bitter pain:
Yet when the sober evening grey
Of life steals on, and charms decay,
When Time detaches, one by one,
The blossoms of thy floral crown,
Oft shalt thou sigh for youth again