Classic Poem

WRITTEN UP THE MEDITERRANEAN .

Ye sons of fortune! mark the tale,
And while she blows the kindly gale,
Ah! seize the hours so gay;
Enjoy each blessing as it flies;
Be timely happy, timely wise,...
It is not always May.

Be grateful for the bliss you know;
Enjoy the moments as they go;
And then you'll have to say,
When favouring fortune sweets allow'd,
I snatch'd, transported, every good,
And " frolick'd while 'twas May. "

With joy the social hours improve,
And cherish friendship, cherish love,...
For friends will die away!
And when the heart's companions go,
Ah! then the wint'ry winds will blow;...
'Twill be no longer May!

Look round you, then, while fortune's kind
Oh! be not to her blessings blind,
Nor throw her gifts away:
And, while the flowery scene you range,
Be blest...for know you'll one day change
December for your May!

These truths believe, ye happy tribe,
Nor cast with rude disdain aside;
For he, who forms the lay,
Each sweet hath cherish'd in its birth;
Hath known a perfect heaven on earth;
And, ah! hath had his May!