4511511Poems — PleasuresMary C. Ryan

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.