Or like the bird that’s here to day, 15
Or like the pearlèd dew of May,
Or like an hour, or like a span,
Or like the singing of a swan—
E’en such is man; who lives by breath,
Is here, now there, in life, and death. 20
The grass withers, the tale is ended;
The bird is flown, the dew’s ascended;
The hour is short, the span is long;