Classic Poem

Like to a star, or to a fire,
Which ever brighter grown, or higher,
Doth shine forth fixed, or doth aspire;

Or to a glance, or to a sigh;
Or to a low wind whispering by,
Which scarce has risen ere it die;

Or to a bird, whose rapid flight
Eludes the dazed observer's sight,
Or a stray shaft of glancing light,

That for an instant breaks the gloom
Which wraps some dark, forgotten tomb,
Or some sweet Spring-flower's fleeting bloom; —

Mixed part of reason, part belief,
Of pain and pleasure, joy and grief,
As changeful as the Spring, and brief; —

A wave, a shadow, a breath, a strife,
With change on change for ever rife! —
This is the thing we know as life.