Why should we think the years of life Will pass serenely by, When, for a day, the Sun himself Ne'er sees a cloudless sky! And, unassuming as she moves, The meek-eyed Queen of night, Meets wand'ring vapours in her path To dim her paler light! Then why should we in vain repine At man's uncertain lot, That cares will equally assail The palace and the cot? For Heaven ordains this chequer'd scene Our mortal pow'rs t' employ; That we might know, compare, select, Be grateful, and enjoy. [For the last verse I am indebted to the pen of a Friend.] |