Classic Poem

Gone the days of ten below;
Melted all the winter's snow,
Night- and day-boats sail the river;
Chugs again the farmer's flivver.

Grazes now the lowing cow;
And the rube resumes the plow,
Now, by lunar lumination,
Venus leads a gay saltation.

Twine the flowers, the myrtle green,
Round the redolent, shining bean!
Bring, regardless of the prices,
Lambs or kids for sacrifices.

Ah, the knock of Death is sure
At the door of rich and poor;
As the shades of life grow deeper,
Comes the celebrated Reaper.

Life, my Sextius, is too short
For a lot of grief or sport.
Darkness, chilly and pneumonic,
Whelms you in the house Plutonic;

Where shall be no merry throws
Of the Galloping Dominoes;
Nor shall Lycidas, the cherished,
Glad the vision of the perished.

Gone the days of ten below;
Melted all the winter's snow,
Night- and day-boats sail the river;
Chugs again the farmer's flivver.

Grazes now the lowing cow;
And the rube resumes the plow,
Now, by lunar lumination,
Venus leads a gay saltation.

Twine the flowers, the myrtle green,
Round the redolent, shining bean!
Bring, regardless of the prices,
Lambs or kids for sacrifices.

Ah, the knock of Death is sure
At the door of rich and poor;
As the shades of life grow deeper,
Comes the celebrated Reaper.

Life, my Sextius, is too short
For a lot of grief or sport.
Darkness, chilly and pneumonic,
Whelms you in the house Plutonic;

Where shall be no merry throws
Of the Galloping Dominoes;
Nor shall Lycidas, the cherished,
Glad the vision of the perished.