Ode

Ode

Oh! let the soul its slumbers break,
Arouse its senses and awake,

To see how soon

Life, like its glories, glides away,
And the stern footsteps of decay

Come stealing on.

And while we view the rolling tide,
Down which our flowing minutes glide

Away so fast;

Let us the present hour employ,
And deem each future dream a joy

Already past.

Let no vain hope deceive the mind,
No happier let us hope to find

Tomorrow than today;

Our golden dreams of yore were bright,
Like them, the present shall delight,

Like them decay.

Our lives like hasting streams must be,
That into one engulfing sea

Are doomed to fall -

The sea of death whose waves roll on,
O'er king and kingdom, crown and throne,

And swallow all.

Alike the river's lordly tide,
Alike the humble riv'lets glide

To that sad wave:

Death levels poverty and pride,
And rich and poor sleep side by side

Within the grave.

Our birth is but a starting place!
Life is the running of the race!

And death the goal!

There all these glittering toys are brought;
That path alone of all unsought,

Is found of all.

Say, then, how poor and little worth
Are all those glittering toys of earth,

That lure us here?

Dreams of a sleep that death must break!
Alas! before it bids us wake,

We disappear.

Long ere the lamp of life can blight,
The cheek's pure glow of red and white

Has passed away;

Youth smiled and all was heavenly fair;
Age came and laid his finger there,

And where are they?

Where is the strength that spurned decay,
The step that strolled so light and gay,

The heart's blythe tone?

The strength is gone, the step is slow,
And joy grows wearisome and wo

When age comes on.

Unattributed

New Series 1:9, p. 4

1840.05.02

Translated from the Spanish