Our hopes are wild imaginings,
Our schemes are airy castles,
Yet these, on earth, are lords and kings,
And we their slaves and vassals;
Your dream, forsooth, of buoyant youth,
Most ready to deceive is;
But age will own the bitter truth,
Ars longa, vita brevis.
The hill of life with eager feet
We climbed in merry morning,
But on the downward track we meet
The shades of twilight warning;
The shadows gaunt they fall aslant,
And those who scaled Ben Nevis,
Against the mole-hills toil and pant,
Ars longa, vita brevis.
The obstacles that barrd our path
We seldom quaild to dash on
In youth, for youth one motto hath,
The will, the way must fashion.
Those words, I wot, blood thick and hot,
Too ready to believe is,
But t...