To Somebody

Cling not to earth—behold its passing joys
     And fleeting pleasures fade and soon depart
Rudely the heavy hand of Time destroys,
     Of life’s gay dreams, each vestige in the heart:
Like the Aurora in the norther sky
     Is earthly pleasure flitting, fading aye;
Now bright it gleams, then paler meets the eye,
     Each moment dying in the gloom away:
Earth’s joys are even so in life’s most perfect day.
Paint not the coming morn in lines too bright
     Ere yet it dawns, for Sorrow’s clouds may roll
Round its fair sun, and quench its beams in night,
     Rendering the darkness deeper to thy soul:
If then thou sleekest joys by fond Hope given,
Not here on earth be’t stay’d, but high above in heaven.