A PHYLACTERY.

Wise men I hold those rakes of old

Who, as we read in antique story,

When lyres were struck and wine was poured,

Set the white Death's Head on the board -

Memento mori.

Love well! love truly! and love fast!

True love evades the dilatory.

Life's bloom flares like a meteor past;

A joy so dazzling cannot last -

Memento mori.

Stop not to pluck the leaves of bay

That greenly deck the path of glory,

The wreath will wither if you stay,

So pass along your earnest way -

Memento mori.

Hear but not heed, though wild and shrill,

The cries of faction transitory;

Cleave to YOUR good, eschew YOUR ill,

A Hundred Years and all is still -

Memento mori.

When Old Age comes with muffled drums,

That beat to sleep our tired life's story,

On thoughts of dying ( Rest is good! ),

Like old snakes coiled i’ the sun, we brood -

Memento mori.