Robert Blair

When it draws near to witching time of night.

When it draws near to witching time of night.

The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame,
Die fast away: only themselves die faster.
The far-fam'd sculptor, read more

The best-concerted schemes men lay for fame,
Die fast away: only themselves die faster.
The far-fam'd sculptor, and the laurell'd bard,
Those bold insurancers of deathless fame,
Supply their little feeble aids in vain.

The common damn'd shun their society.

The common damn'd shun their society.

See yonder maker of the dead man's bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle,
Of hard, unmeaning face, down read more

See yonder maker of the dead man's bed,
The sexton, hoary-headed chronicle,
Of hard, unmeaning face, down which ne'er stole
A gentle tear.

Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
read more

Our time is fixed, and all our days are number'd;
How long, how short, we know not:--this we know,
Duty requires we calmly wait the summons,
Nor dare to stir till Heaven shall give permission.