Poems (Elgee, 1907)/Vanitas

by Jane Francesca Agnes Elgee

VANITAS.

HE glory of Life is fleeting; Its splendour passeth away,With tints and odours meeting The flowers we twined to-day.

How brightly, in varied light,They reflected the morning sun;But the chilling dews of the nighWithered them one by one.

So the stream of Existence flowethO'er the golden sands of youth,In the light of a joy that glowethFrom the depths of its love and truth.

But heavy, and cold, and fast,The gathering clouds uprise,Eclipsing the light, which castOn the waters a thousand dyes.

And onward, in sullen endeavour,Like a stream in a sunless cave,It floweth in darkness ever:Yet—could we thus reach the grave?

But we wake to a sorrow deeper—The knowledge of all we have lost;And the light grows fainter and weakerAs we're borne from youth's sunny coast.

Yet onward with drifting motion,Still farther from life and light;Around us a desert Ocean—Above us eternal Night.