On Bubbles Poem by Benjamin Cutler Clark

On Bubbles



Often, in our waking dreams,
We invent a thousand schemes,
That bring with them troubles;
But, too late! we find, indeed,
That, alas! they can't succeed,
And are empty bubbles.

Men are seen, with anxious care,
'Building castles in the air,'
With an interest double;
But their fancied visions bright,
By experience brought to light,
Are but one great bubble.

Some are preaching to their shame;
And, to get a godly name,
Preach a language double;—
Drag the Holy Scriptures in,—
Justify the Man of Sin,
And secure a bubble.

Men of genius, skill, and art,
Statesmen, lawyers, and, in short,
All experience trouble,
After wasting years and health,
To procure a name, or wealth,
Find they've but a bubble.

Then, if peace we wish below,
Our joys from Heaven must flow—
Our exertions double;
So, when death appears in view,
We may bid the world adieu,
With its mighty bubble.

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