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Eugene Field - In The Springtime
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`T is spring! The boats bound to the sea;
  The breezes, loitering kindly over
The fields, again bring herds and men
  The grateful cheer of honeyed clover.

Now Venus hither leads her train;
  The Nymphs and Graces join in orgies;
The moon is bright, and by her light
  Old Vulcan kindles up his forges.

Bind myrtle now about your brow,
  And weave fair flowers in maiden tresses;
Appease god Pan, who, kind to man,
  Our fleeting life with affluence blesses;

But let the changing seasons mind us,
  That Death`s the certain doom of mortals,--
Grim Death, who waits at humble gates,
  And likewise stalks through kingly portals.

Soon, Sestius, shall Plutonian shades
  Enfold you with their hideous seemings;
Then love and mirth and joys of earth
  Shall fade away like fevered dreamings.
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