11. MISERABLE OLD AGE.'Tis weary through the race of life to run,Expos'd to noon-tide heat and chilly night,Mid storms, that well the boldest may affright,When clouds with lightnings arm'd obscure the sun.Our cares are vain; the good is never won;Sweet joys are fleeting as the meteor's light;Unfix'd as shadows are our hopes most bright;And toil of years is toil but just begun.Backward from long ascent we turn the eye,If haply the review may cheer the heart:The graves of those we love heave through the way.Forward we gaze: thick mists obstruct the sky,But precipice is near, from which we start;Yet naught remains but down to slide and die!
11. MISERABLE OLD AGE.
'Tis weary through the race of life to run,Expos'd to noon-tide heat and chilly night,Mid storms, that well the boldest may affright,When clouds with lightnings arm'd obscure the sun.Our cares are vain; the good is never won;Sweet joys are fleeting as the meteor's light;Unfix'd as shadows are our hopes most bright;And toil of years is toil but just begun.Backward from long ascent we turn the eye,If haply the review may cheer the heart:The graves of those we love heave through the way.Forward we gaze: thick mists obstruct the sky,But precipice is near, from which we start;Yet naught remains but down to slide and die!
'Tis weary through the race of life to run,
Expos'd to noon-tide heat and chilly night,
Mid storms, that well the boldest may affright,
When clouds with lightnings arm'd obscure the sun.
Our cares are vain; the good is never won;
Sweet joys are fleeting as the meteor's light;
Unfix'd as shadows are our hopes most bright;
And toil of years is toil but just begun.
Backward from long ascent we turn the eye,
If haply the review may cheer the heart:
The graves of those we love heave through the way.
Forward we gaze: thick mists obstruct the sky,
But precipice is near, from which we start;
Yet naught remains but down to slide and die!