Poems (Dodd)/Phantoms
For works with similar titles, see Phantoms.
PHANTOMS.
Life is but a changeful story, Of its end we little know;All its years are but a moment, Shadow-like they come and go.
Careless, thoughtless, of the future, To its dark revealings blind;Phantoms we are ever chasing; Phantoms of the eye or mind.
Does the heart delight in beauty? Rosy cheeks, and sparkling eyes?Ah, the form they are adorning, Is a spectre in disguise.
All the pleasure we are-seeking, All the charms we sigh to clasp,Are no sooner to us given, Than they perish in our grasp.
Hope and joy we vainly follow, By their smiles deceiving led;When at last we seem to reach them, Hope is gone, and joy is dead.
Faith and love awhile deceive us; But their trial is at hand;Faith's fond promises are broken, Love is written in the sand.
Shall we thus be mocked with shadows? Beauty changing into dust!Is there nothing real to bless us? Nothing to reward our trust?
Nothing here! each dream shall vanish, Like the wave from off the shore,Which, borne onward to the ocean, Laves the same green spot no more.
But when life's short day is ended, And our phantom race is o'er,We shall taste and see the blessings, Which were but a shade before.
Beauty will be made immortal; Time shall nothing more destroy;While beside us dwell forever, Faith, and hope, and love, and joy.