The Young Widow
A husband’s death brings always sighs;
The widow sobs, sheds tears—then dries.
Of Time the sadness borrows wings;
And Time returning pleasure brings.
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A husband’s death brings always sighs;
The widow sobs, sheds tears—then dries.
Of Time the sadness borrows wings;
And Time returning pleasure brings.
The goddess Discord, having made, on high,
Among the gods a general grapple,
And thence a lawsuit, for an apple,
Was turned out, bag and baggage, from the sky.
The world has never lacked its charlatans,
More than themselves have lacked their plans.
One sees them on the stage at tricks
Which mock the claims of sullen Styx.
This world is full of shadow-chasers,
Most easily deceived.
Should I enumerate these racers,
I should not be believed.
In such a world, all men, of every grade,
Should each the other kindly aid;
For, if beneath misfortune’s goad
A neighbour falls, on you will fall his load.
From wrongs of wicked men we draw
Excuses for our own:
Such is the universal law.
Would you have mercy shown,
Let yours be clearly known.