The Way Things Appear and Fade (A Feature Poem By Thomas Moore)

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 All that's bright must fade,
The brightest still the fleetest,
All that's sweet was made
But to be lost when sweetest!

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Stars that shine and fall,
The flower that drops in springing;
These, alas! are types of all
To which our hands are clinging!

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Who would seek or prize
happenings that end in aching?
Who would trust to connections
that every day is breaking?

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Better far to be
In utter foam soap bubbling,
than to be given wings and see
that spirits forever living.

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All that's bright must fade,
The brightest still the fleetest!
All that's sweet was made
but to be lost when sweetest!