| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
i74 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
||
|
|
||
|
THIS WORLD IS ALL A FLEETING SHOW
THIS world is all a fleeting show, For man's illusion given ; The smiles of joy, the tears of woe, Deceitful shine, deceitful flow — There's nothing true but Heaven !
And false the light on glory's plume,
As fading hues of even ! And love and hope and beauty's bloom Are blossoms gathered for the tomb —
There's nothing bright but Heaven !
Poor wanderers of a stormy day !
From wave to wave we're driven, And fancy's flash and reason's ray Serve but to light the troubled way —
There's nothing calm but Heaven ! |
||
|
THOSE EVENING BELLS
THOSE evening bells ! those evening bells ! How many a tale their music tells, Of youth, and home and that sweet time, When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those joyous hours are passed away; And many a heart, that then was gay, Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. |
||
|
|
||