The Poems of William Drummond of Hawthornden, Vol. 2 (Classic Reprint) - Paperback

Excerpt from The Poems of William Drummond of Hawthornden, Vol. 2

The Instability of Mortal Glory.

Triumphant arches, statues crown'd with bays,
Proud obelisks, tombs of the vastest frame,
Colosses, brazen Atlases of fame,
Fanes vainly builded to vain idols' praise;
States, which insatiate minds in blood do raise,
From the cross-stars unto the Arctic team,
Alas! and what we write to keep our name,
Like spiders' cauls are made the sport of days:
All only constant is in constant change,
What done is, is undone, and when undone,
Into some other figure doth it range;
Thus moves the restless world beneath the moon:
Wherefore, my mind, above time, motion, place,
Thee raise, and steps not rteach'd by nature trace.

Human Frailty.

A Good that never satisfies the mind,
A beauty fading like the April flowers,
A sweet with floods of gall that runs combin'd,
A pleasure passing ere in thought made ours,

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