Gay Youth, thou witherest, with thy touch of doom,
Stern Manhood shrinks beneath thy grasp, oh, death,
And fragile Age by worldly cares opprest,
Sinks, softly sinks, into those arms for rest.
And then methought death's hollow voice replied,
'Rash mortal—would'st thou tempt the dangerous gloom,
Launch thy frail bark upon the awful tide
That leaves the lonely islands of the tomb;
Darest thou, in thy vain impotence of pride
Demand the knowledge to frail man denied?