Against Frivolous Pursuits

Like splendid robes appear the wings

    Of the ephemeral fly;

  And such the pomp of those great men,

    Which soon in death shall lie!

  I grieve! Would they but come to me!

    To teach them I should try.

  The wings of the ephemeral fly

    Are robes of colors gay;

  And such the glory of those men,

    Soon crumbling to decay!

  I grieve! Would they but rest with me,

    They'd learn a better way!

  The ephemeral fly bursts from its hole,

    With gauzy wings like snow;

  So quick the rise, so quick the fall,

    Of those great men we know!

  I grieve! Would they but lodge with me,

    Forth they would wiser go.