TO
John
Hartopp
Esq
July
1700.
Youth
and
Pleasure
tar
ry
not
.
Casimire
,
Book
1.
Ode
4.
Imitated
.
Vive
jucundae
metuens
juventae
,
&c.
I.
LIVE
,
my
Dear
HARTOPP
,
live
to
Day
,
Nor
let
the
Sun
look
down
and
say
,
"
Inglorious
here
he
lies
.
Shake
off
your
Ease
,
and
send
your
Name
To
Immortality
and
Fame
By
ev'ry
Hour
that
flies
.
II
.
Youth's
a
soft
Scene
,
but
trust
her
not
,
Her
Airy
Minutes
swift
as
Thought
Slide
off
the
Slipp'ry
Sphere
;
Moons
with
their
Months
make
hasty
Rounds
,
The
Sun
has
pass'd
his
Vernal
Bounds
And
whirls
about
the
Year
.
III
.
Let
Folly
dress
in
Green
and
Red
,
And
Gird
her
Wast
with
flowing
Gold
,
Knit
blushing
Roses
round
her
Head
,
Alass
!
the
gaudy
Colours
fade
,
The
Garment
waxes
old
.
HARTOPP
,
mark
the
withering
Rose
,
And
the
pale
Gold
how
dim
it
shows
!
IV
.
Bright
and
lasting
Bliss
below
Is
all
Romance
and
Dream
,
Only
the
Joys
Coelestial
flow
In
an
Eternal
Stream
.
The
Pleasures
that
the
Smiling
Day
With
large
Right
hand
bestows
,
Falsly
her
Left
conveys
away
And
shuffles
in
our
Woes
.
So
have
I
seen
a
Mother
play
And
Cheat
her
Silly
Child
,
She
gave
and
took
a
Toy
away
,
The
Infant
cry'd
,
and
smil'd
.
V.
Airy
Chance
and
Iron
Fate
Hurry
and
Vex
our
Mortal
State
,
And
all
the
Race
of
Ills
create
;
Now
fiery
Joy
,
now
sullen
Grief
Commands
the
Reins
of
Human
Life
,
The
Wheels
impetuous
roll
;
The
harnest
Hours
and
Minutes
strive
,
And
Days
with
stretching
Pinions
drive
down
fiercely
on
the
Goal
.
VI
.
Not
half
so
fast
the
Gally
flies
O're
the
Venetian
Sea
,
When
Sails
and
Oars
and
laboring
Skies
Contend
to
make
her
Way
.
Swift
Wings
for
all
the
flying
Hours
The
God
of
Time
prepares
,
The
rest
lie
still
yet
in
their
Nest
And
grow
for
future
Years
.