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Mutability - Percy Bysshe Shelley

The flower that smiles to-day

            To-morrow dies;

All that we wish to stay

            Tempts and then flies.

What is this world’s delight?

Lightning that mocks the night

            Brief even as bright.

Virtue, how frail it is!

            Friendship how rare!

Love, how it sells poor bliss

            For proud despair!

But we, though soon they fall,

Survive their joy, and all

Which ours we call.

Whilst skies are blue and bright,

            Whilst flowers are gay,

Whilst eyes that change ere night

            Make glad the day;

Whilst yet the calm hours creep,

Dream thou – and from the sleep

            Then wake to weep.

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