50
ON SEEING CHILDREN BLOWING BUBBLES.
Like hopes by disappointment swept away,
Which, vanishing, are followed by despair,—
Like shadowy phantoms of the poet's brain,
Or like ambition's wild-aspiring schemes,
Equally bright, and equally as vain,—
Like fancy's magic, or like lover's dreams,
Emblems of all by which we 're here perplexed,—
This world itself a bubble to the next.
Which, vanishing, are followed by despair,—
Like shadowy phantoms of the poet's brain,
Or like ambition's wild-aspiring schemes,
Equally bright, and equally as vain,—
Like fancy's magic, or like lover's dreams,
Emblems of all by which we 're here perplexed,—
This world itself a bubble to the next.
