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DEATH, THE SAGE, AND THE FOOL*

J.

Hence with thy rhapsodies—the world—theworld!—Wends on his reckless course the gay—theyoung—Where Fashion hath her gonfalon unfurled,

And Beauty's Circe-lips have loudest sung!What, though the roses which fond childhood flungO'er his calm breast, are scorch'd by Passion'sflame,And all is desolate where they blushing sprung;—He seeks enjoyment, and loud laughs atfame,—He gains it—bitter gain : a mockery—but a name !

* Fide Frontispiece.y2