Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/143

Rh Is shifting as the sea, and swell With empty pride. The noisy mart Still others claim, who meanly deal In quarrelsome suits, and profit make Of wrath and empty words. Few know untroubled peace, the men Who, heeding time's swift flight, hold fast The years that never will return. While fate permits, live happily; For life runs on with rapid pace, And with headlong speed the year's swift wheel With wingéd hours is turned. The cruel sisters urge their task, Nor backward turn the threads of life. But the race of men is hurried on To meet the quick approaching fates, Uncertain of their own. Of our own will we haste to cross The Stygian waves. Thou, Hercules, With heart too brave, before thy time Didst see the grieving shades. The fates In pre-established order come; And none may stay when they command, None may put off the appointed day. The swiftly whirling urn of fate Contains all mortal men. Let glory then to many lands Proclaim some names, and chattering fame Through every city sing their praise, And raise them to the stars. Sublime In triumph let another ride. Me let my native land conceal Within a safe and humble home. 'Tis unambitious souls who come To hoary-headed age at last. If humble, still the lot is sure Of lowly homes. Souls lifted high, For this to greater depths must fall.

But see, sad Megara comes with flowing-hair,