dark days of vanity! while here
How tasteless, and how terrible when gone!
they ne'er go; when past, they haunt us still;
The spirit walks of every day deceased,
And smiles an angel, or a fury frowns.
Nor death nor life delight us. If time past,
And time possess'd, both pain us, what can please?
That which the Deity to please ordain'd, —
Time used. The man who consecrates his hours
By vigorous effort, and an honest aim,
At once he draws the sting of life and death;
He walks with Nature, and her paths are peace.