Poems (Ryan)/Pleasures
PLEASURES.
How fleeting are all the sweet pleasures below, Like gay flaunting phantoms before us they go; Or like dreams of enchantment with victory won, Vanishing with sleep, and forever are gone.
Thus daily earth's pleasures like mists pass away,The hopes we hold dearest the soonest decay; And joys that are brightest the quickest depart, Leaving fond mem'ries to cling round the heart.
The glory of kings, the beauty of flowers, Survive but a season, a few summer hours, For all we enjoy from our grasp pass away, E'en life at its close will appear as a day.
How vain then are all the allurements of life, Since all that is won in the world's busy strife,In a moment is lost. The triumphs and fame Of the great and the wise are simply a name.
For in palace or cot at life's ebbing tide,But one hope can remain, one joy can abide, The hope of the soul for redemption on high,And joy of the promise, a home in the sky.