This Life Which Seems So Fair
William Henry Drummond
This Life, which seems so fair, Is like a bubble blown up in the air By sporting children’s breath, Who chase it everywhere And strive who can most motion it bequeath. And though it sometimes seem of its own might Like to an eye of gold to be fixed there, And firm to hover in that empty height, That only is because it is so light. But in that pomp it doth not long appear; For when ’tis most admired, in a thought, Because it erst was nought, it turns to nought.
Next 10 Poems
- William Henry Drummond : To His Lute
- William Henry Drummond : To The Nightingale
- John Dryden : A Song For Saint Cecilia's Day, 1687
- John Dryden : A Song For St. Cecilia's Day, 1687
- John Dryden : A Song From The Italian
- John Dryden : A Song From The Italian: Limberham, Or, The Kind Keeper
- John Dryden : Absalom And Achitophel
- John Dryden : Absalom And Achitophel A Poem
- John Dryden : Ah, How Sweet It Is To Love!
- John Dryden : Alexander's Feast; Or, The Power Of Music
Previous 10 Poems
- William Henry Drummond : Summons To Love
- William Henry Drummond : Spring Bereaved Iii
- William Henry Drummond : Spring Bereaved Ii
- William Henry Drummond : Spring Bereaved I
- William Henry Drummond : Saint John Baptist
- William Henry Drummond : Madrigal
- William Henry Drummond : Invocation
- William Henry Drummond : Inexorable
- William Henry Drummond : Her Passing
- William Henry Drummond : Doth Then The World Go Thus?