THE SOAP BUBBLE.
Bright Globe! upon the sun-beam tost,
Pure, sparkling, then forever lost,
No crested wave that glittering breaks,
Nor pearl that Wealth admiring takes,
Nor diamond from Golconda's coast
Can half thy changeful brilliance boast.
—Hast thou a voice, to bid us see
An emblem of our infancy,
Our reckless youth, our manhood's strife,
And all the painted gaudes of life?
—Hope spreads her wing of plumage fair,
Rebuilds her castle bas'd on air,
Its turrets crown'd with frost-work bright,
Its portals filled with rosy light,
A breath of Summer stirs the tree,
Where is that gorgeous dome?—with thee.
—Behold! array'd in robes of light
Young Beauty charms the gazer's sight,
Fast in her steps the graces tread,
The roseate chaplet decks her head,
But the brief garland fades away,
The bubble bursts,—and she is clay.
—Dilate once more thy proudest size,
And deck thee in the rainbow's dies,
Thy boldest flight aspiring dare,
Then vanish to thy native air;
Love dazzles thus with borrow'd rays,
And thus the trusting heart betrays.
—Again it swells, that chrystal round,
Soars, shines, expands, and seeks the ground,
Save, save that frail and tinted shell!
Where fled its fragments? who can tell?
Thus, when the soul from dust is free,
Thus shall it gaze, oh Earth! on thee.