Classic Poem

Day yields to night and night to day,
Alternate, light and darkness sway;
And varied seasons still appear
Till winter terminate the year:
The sun, at mid day plac'd on high,
At eve sinks in the western sky;
The moon with borrow'd radiance shines,
And likewise in her turn declines;
Thus in each object of thy state
Behold, O man! thy mortal state.
Morn gives back splendour to the day,
Spring makes the gloom of winter gay;
Again the sun his course pursues,
Again the moon her light renews:
But man like all around him dies,
Like them to light no more to rise,
Silent and dark in dust he lies;
No spring shall bid our ashes bloom,
No morn awake us in the tomb.