| Andrew Macphail, comp. The Book of Sorrow. 1916. | | | IV. Inevitable
A Dirge | | By John Webster (c. 1580–1634) |
| | | ALL the flowers of the spring | |
| Meet to perfume our burying; | |
| These have but their growing prime, | |
| And man does flourish but his time: | |
| Survey our progress from our birth— | 5 |
| We are set, we grow, we turn to earth. | |
| Courts adieu, and all delights, | |
| All bewitching appetites! | |
| Sweetest breath and clearest eye | |
| Like perfumes go out and die; | 10 |
| And consequently this is done | |
| As shadows wait upon the sun. | |
| Vain the ambition of kings | |
| Who seek by trophies and dead things | |
| To leave a living name behind, | 15 |
| And weave but nets to catch the wind. | | | | |
|
|
