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1838–1905

A PHYLACTERY.

John Hay

Wise men I hold those rakes of old Who, as we read in antique story, When lyres were struck and wine was poured, Set the white Death's Head on the board -

Memento mori. Love well! love truly! and love fast! True love evades the dilatory. Life's bloom flares like a meteor past;

A joy so dazzling cannot last - Memento mori. Stop not to pluck the leaves of bay That greenly deck the path of glory,

The wreath will wither if you stay, So pass along your earnest way - Memento mori. Hear but not heed, though wild and shrill,

The cries of faction transitory; Cleave to YOUR good, eschew YOUR ill, A Hundred Years and all is still - Memento mori.

When Old Age comes with muffled drums, That beat to sleep our tired life's story, On thoughts of dying ( Rest is good! ), Like old snakes coiled i’ the sun, we brood -

Memento mori.

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A PHYLACTERY. · John Hay · Poetry Cove