Winthrop Mackworth Praed

I think, whatever mortals crave,
With impotent endeavor,
A wreath--a rank--a throne--a grave--
The read more

I think, whatever mortals crave,
With impotent endeavor,
A wreath--a rank--a throne--a grave--
The world goes round forever;
I think that life is not too long,
And therefore I determine,
That many people read a song,
Who will not read a sermon.

His talk was like a stream which runs
With rapid change from rock to roses;
It slipped read more

His talk was like a stream which runs
With rapid change from rock to roses;
It slipped from politics to puns;
It passed from Mahomet to Moses;
Beginning with the laws that keep
The planets in the radiant courses,
And ending with some precept deep
For dressing eels or shoeing horses.