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I-V    VI-X     XI-XV    XVI-XX    XXI-XXV     XXVI-XXX    XXXI-XXXV
XXXVI-XL    XLI-XLV    XLVI-L    LI-LV     LVI-LX    LXI-LXV    LXVI-LXX     LXXI-LXXV

  Magellan's Log Copyright © 2001 Texas Chapbook Press
www.texaschapbookpress.com

XXI.

Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest.


XXII.

And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,
Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend, ourselves to make a Couch--for whom?


XXIII.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust Descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and--sans End!


XXIV.

Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
And those that after a TO-MORROW stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There."


XXV.

Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.