Few Are Our Days

44

1. Few are our days, those few we dream away,
Sure is our fate, to moulder in the clay;
Rise, immortal soul! Above thine earthly fate, Time yet is thine, but soon it is too late.

45

2. Lo! midnight's gloom invites the pensive mind,
Pale is the scene, but shadows there you'll find;
Rise! immortal soul! Shun gloom, pursue thy flight,
Lest hence thy fate be like the gloomy night.

3. Hark! from the grave oblivion's doleful tones,
There shall our names be moulder'd like our bones;
Rise, immortal soul! that hence thy fame may shine;
Time flies, and ends; eternity is thine.