Are but the transient pageants of an hour;
And earthly pride is like the passing flower
That springs to fall, and blossoms but to die.
H. K. White.
Of the deep learning of the schools of yore
The reverend pastor hath a golden stock;
Yet with a vain display of useless lore,
Or sapless doctrine never will he mock
The better cravings of his simple flock;
But faithfully their humble shepherd guides