Peter S. Quinn


All Things Must Past

All things must past what of day is here born
First it gives pleasure and then it is gone,
Like a glow from dawn's new rising pylon
Light of the day that to dark is forworn;
All what to fate is impaired and forlorn
Turning to echoes like fading carillon,
Forgot in darkness what once was of dawn
First it was merry - but now it is lorn.

[Hata Bildir]