Wasted
Thou show'st thy beauty unto all the men
— That meet thee by the way,
And one day thou shalt render it again
— To death and to decay.
Thou giv'st thy wisdom to a chosen few,
— As 'twere some precious book,
Yet were there only two or three that knew
— The art therein to look.
Thou giv'st thy laughter only unto one.
— He hath no eyes to see.
Give, when his bitter jest with thee is done,
— Thy tears to me!
— That meet thee by the way,
And one day thou shalt render it again
— To death and to decay.
Thou giv'st thy wisdom to a chosen few,
— As 'twere some precious book,
Yet were there only two or three that knew
— The art therein to look.
Thou giv'st thy laughter only unto one.
— He hath no eyes to see.
Give, when his bitter jest with thee is done,
— Thy tears to me!
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