WHAT are all our promis’d pleasures,
But the dew drops of the morn;
Little, trembling, glittering treasures,
Transient gems that deck the thorn:
Scarce can hope her rays supply,
Scarce they glitter ere they die.
Yet to see the sons of folly
Chase the bubble as it flies;
How it calls on melancholy,
To record the sacrifice:
Sacrifice of heavenly treasure,
To procure a fleeting pleasure.
Tho’ the joys of time are failing,
Tho’ its sorrows are renew’d;
Still the love of life, prevailing,
Drives us from our greatest good;
Since affliction then is kind,
Let us seek to be resign’d.
Sorrow is design’d to try us,
Hastening us thro’ life’s rough way;
Ev’ry cloud that passes by us,
Should a friendly voice convey:
Let us aid the great design,
And to God our wills resign.
(Elizabeth Bath)
More Poetry from Elizabeth Bath:
Elizabeth Bath Poems based on Topics: Joy & Excitement, Life, Love, Time, Sadness, Pleasure, Hospitality, Stupidity, Design, Sons, Failure- Poems (Elizabeth Bath Poems)
- Lines Adressed To A Young Friend, During A Visit At The Sea Coast (Elizabeth Bath Poems)
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- Reflections In A Burial Ground (Elizabeth Bath Poems)
- Address To Solitude (Elizabeth Bath Poems)
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